Dearly Devoted
by Angelas
Summary: Itachi is the new art teacher, and Naruto wants nothing more but to impress him. ItaNaru
1. When I Met You

_Edited and revised: 8/13/2012_

**I just had to write an ItaNaru. Such a lovely couple. (x I will be placing a lot of my own personal experiences into this story since I, too, am madly in love with my art teacher.**

**Onwards!**

**oOo**

I was a month away from being fourteen when I began my first day of high school.

It was cold,_ gloomy_, around the time, and I was dressed in my favorite orange jacket.

It was an approximate thirty minute walk to Konoha High, which made getting there tedious every morning, but my counselor insisted it would be worth it in the end to attend the school. Then she said something about the work not being so hard.

Clearly, she, and everyone else, deemed me stupid.

The way people treated me assured me that I was, and I hadn't looked back. I had no leverage to go against what they said. My grades were horrible, and I had no particular talent. That is, if failing classes persistently didn't count as a 'talent'.

I made my way inside the school, being nervous out of my mind. I walked reluctantly through the hallway entrance and noticed the incredible amount of people surrounding me. I glanced here and there, only to notice a few of them glaring at me.

_Eww.. Look at his hair! It's so nappy! And that yellow is so outdated!_

_Look at that idiot wearing orange! What is he? An orange peel?_

I looked away and tried to keep a straight face. I was used to letting people's comments get me down, making me feel like the priss I was. I knew I was ugly. I knew I was stupid.. Wasn't that enough for them?

Something pushed me hard on the shoulder, forcing me to look up. Some guy with two red marks on his cheeks, and thick, brown hair gave me a toothy smirk.

"What are you? A fruit?"

Everyone in the hallway burst out in laughter, and I tried my best to ignore it all as I pushed my way through him. I roamed around aimlessly through the hallways for the next fifteen minutes or so until, finally, it was time for the first class of the day. I checked my schedule, ensuing my search for the geometry classroom.

It must have been twenty minutes that passed until I finally found it, and when I did, the teacher gave me a long, embarrassing lecture on irresponsibility in front of the entire class. Some guy threw a paper ball at me, followed with another when the class finally ended.

The day dragged on.

I found myself hardly listening or caring about any of my surroundings. All I remember was sitting through the lectures and introductions, doodling away at my notebook.

I've always wanted to draw, but I knew I sucked badly at it. I didn't know why I persisted. It's not like anyone ever complimented it, or _cared_, for the matter.

I was invisible to the world, and I could hardly blame them.

Soon, I would drop out like everyone assumed I would, and I would live an empty, meaningless life of minimum wage and.. loneliness.

I stared at the clocks, counting every second that went by that did not consist of me attempting to draw a straight line.

Lunch time came. I cringed at the thought.

Surely, it would go as it always did. People would laugh and point at whatever I did, and I would end up holding back stupid tears; only to let them out in the bathroom like an idiot. I reluctantly got out of my seat and into the danger of the school's courtyard. A group of girls stared at me as if I were some sort of zombie roaming the building, making some comment about my shoes.

"You know, those are _so_ old-looking!" one of them shouted, her pink hair almost a light in the fog, "You should _really_ go shop for new ones! Weirdo!"

They burst into a high-pitched laughter. I walked away as if nothing happened, dragging my feet through the concrete. I looked around, only to see everyone with their own group of friends, laughing, talking, and looking like they were having a blast.

I had nothing but an orange jacket, and a strong, unbearable urge to dig a hole somewhere and die there.

I made my way to an empty table, not bothering to eat or to approach anyone. I took out my notebook and began drawing the girl with the bright, pink hair with horrible accuracy.

I giggled a little when I looked down, a bulbous plate of a forehead staring back at me from the paper.

**oOo**

Lunch had ended, and so had Computer class.

I looked down to my schedule, noticing that I had one final period:

Art.

I was a little surprised that they would give me a choice class since my transcript consisted of nothing but Fs and Ds, but I obliged to attend, anyway. I made my way through the halls, and out of some miracle, I found it just on time. I went right in and noticed how small the class was. If you could even call it a 'class'.. There were hardly fifteen people in it.

I looked around for a teacher to no avail as I sat in my seat.

Maybe I read the schedule wrong?

At that precise moment, the door opened, and a tall, elegant man with haunting red eyes made his way inside. I stared in amazement as he seemed to glide to the front of the classroom, his long, black hair following closely behind him.

"I apologize," he began. His voice was deep and resonating, making the whole room dim into complete silence. "This is my first day here, and I managed to get lost."

I studied his face, noticing how unreasonably handsome he was.

His skin was a sun-kissed pale, and the lashes on his eyes were probably the longest I'd ever seen. He was dressed in a black, button-up dress shirt that hugged his figure in all the right places, his sleeves pulled up in an artsy way. My eyes involuntarily trailed down his body, tracing the outline of the dark jeans that hugged his full, muscular thighs.

I stared in awe, unable to separate my gaze from him.

"I'm Itachi Uchiha," he went on, writing his name on the board in long, majestic letters, "But that's hardly important."

There was a calmness and acceptance in his voice; as if he knew just how the entire world worked, and what every person in the room was thinking. He overflowed with both confidence and beauty.

I was left overwhelmed by it all, and it took me a moment to realize that he had noticed me. His geranium eyes had locked with my own.

I gulped, not at all knowing how long he had been looking at me for.

To my relief, a moment later, he simply looked away and continued talking as if nothing at all had ensued.

"Everyone, get out a sheet of blank paper."

The rustling of paper and the unzipping of bags flooded the room as I quickly pulled out my notebook to a blank page. I held my pencil and waited, secretly stealing glances here and there as he began to revolve around the room.

"I want you all to draw the face of someone who is precious to you," he said, as if he weren't really speaking to us at all, but a ghost in the air. "It doesn't have to be perfect. This is about expression, not quality."

He suddenly paused in his stride, and looked down, as if correcting himself, "Though, the quality does depend on the expression itself." He seemed more certain of that statement, allowing himself to continue his stroll throughout the class,. "Take your time, there is no limit."

I looked around. Everyone began to draw lines on their papers in clear unison. I took a moment to look around the classroom's bare walls, and noticed framed portraits. My mouth fell open in astonishment at the mere exquisite quality of them, and I found myself unable to close it again.

There was one of an old man, the wrinkles shaded and blended to perfection; and another of an appealing woman titled 'Mikoto' in large, sophisticated letters. I stared at that particular one. There was a distinct, deepening sadness emanating from it that it must have made my face look weird because his voice alone, (which was directed straight towards me), almost threw me out of my chair.

I turned nervously towards him, only to be greeted with a very, very faint smile on the man's face.

"She is my mother."

I quickly looked away from him, concentrating on the nothingness of my paper.

"She died when I was young," his words were quiet, and a vibe of sorrow slid from them. "She was very beautiful."

I sat still, not wanting to say the wrong thing. I felt a veil of comfort falling upon me, however, as I heard him speak. My mother had died, too, when I was younger, and I knew perfectly well the pain that came with it.

"I'm sorry.." I heard myself say in a way that resembled more of a whimper.

"It's fine," he flicked a long strand of his hair to the side, "How is your drawing coming along?"

I panicked, trying to hide the notebook with my hands.

"It takes a moment to really know where to start," he said, his voice not the least bit upset as I thought it would be. "I want to see you start."

I inwardly gulped, and began to meet the paper with my pencil, trying my best to calm down. His presence was just so great, so_ intimidating_..

I thought of my father and attempted to draw the outline of how his face looked. I could see Itachi from the corner of my eye, watching me intently. I had an overwhelming need to impress him. Something I had never felt before.

I never cared of anyone's opinion of me because I knew what it would be. That I was an idiot, a dumbass. Someone who was impossible to teach or befriend.

My hand was choking my pencil almost frantically, and just when I was about to erase everything I had done so far, his hand suddenly encased my own.

I held my breath, my eyes widening at the very small distance that was now barely present between us.

I could smell him, and I could feel his warm breath behind my ear. His scent was both floral and gallant. The hair that was held into a ponytail behind him cascaded ever so slightly on my shoulder. I nearly fainted from the fierceness of his presence; of the situation.

"Hard strokes lose grace," he whispered dangerously close to my ear, "soften your hand and let your eyes lead the pencil," he led my hand throughout the paper, closing the gap between the bottom half of the head, "as if you're tracing straight from the image in your mind."

He then began to slowly let go of my hand, and I immediately attempted to follow his advice. He stood near me, watching me as I progressed through the hair faster and more gracefully then I ever had before without much of a thought. I stopped for a moment, surprising myself with how good it had actually turned out. The hair resembled very closely how my father had it. I turned to smile at Itachi in thanks, warm blush on my face.

"You have talent," he said, leaning away from me and looking straight into what felt like my soul with those red, piercing eyes of his. "Someday, you'll become a great artist."

I looked at him in mere amazement as he walked off, leaving behind his intoxicating scent. No one had ever said something like that to me before. That they thought I could be something..

He had acknowledged me.

I wanted nothing more but to impress and to please him as much as I could from then on. I breathed in, concentrating on the image beneath my hand and the hold of my pencil.

_Loose strokes.. Trace from mind.. Relax.._

As I drew, I thought of nothing but him.

Itachi was astoundingly beautiful; perfect. I could hardly think of anything that was not his warm, experienced hand holding at my own. Leading me, teaching me..

A need began to surface into me, and I wasn't completely sure what it was.

All I knew was that I had to impress him as much as I could, to show him that I could be someone.

That I could be an artist.

I drew consistently until the end of the class, an impossibly loud bell nearly shaking the entire school to the ground. I reluctantly put my stuff away, and stood to make my way out the door. A hard smack on the back of my head, however, stopped me dead in my tracks.

It was the same guy from earlier with the two red marks on his face. He gave me a sharp sneer, "Drawing's for pansies! Loser!"

He made his way loudly out of the classroom, throwing the assignment that Itachi had given us rudely on his desk. I looked towards his face, noticing that he was hardly phased. At that moment, he motioned for me to approach him.

He had probably noticed the way my face had began to twist when the other guy had smacked me; the way it always does when I hold myself back from crying. I approached him in shame, trying my absolute best to get my face back to its normal, unemotional state.

"A true artist only cries to the rhythm of their pencil," he said quietly in a voice that was both firm and comforting, "Or when the picture is finished."

I looked up at his handsome, captivating face, regaining some composure of my own.

"They just.. never leave me alone.."

He closed his eyes momentarily, as if understanding deeply what it was that I was saying.

"Practice. Draw what you feel."

He suddenly stood, opening one of the drawers to his desk, and handed me a thick drawing pad with a set of seemingly expensive charcoal pencils. "It's Bristol paper. It's good for the darkness and heaviness of your lines."

I took it, and slowly packed it in my backpack, looking at him in utter disbelief. He seemed mildly amused at this, and he chuckled quietly, giving me a very brief, but noticeable, smile.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Naruto."

He said my name.

I nearly fainted. I nodded vigorously before I thanked him one more time, and ran out the door.

That night, I practiced until my eyes were heavy and my hand grew raw from constant strain. I showered and spent another lonely night in that lonely place of an apartment. There hadn't been a foster parent in a million mile radius that would take me in.

The dreadful feeling of being an outcast spread over me eventually, and I punched angrily at the wall.

What was wrong with me? Why did everyone feel the need to hate me so much?

When I gave up on asking the empty room questions, along with mindlessly insulting the banana on the kitchen table, I fell into bed, allowing sleep to take me.

I woke up the next morning with the notebook Itachi had given me in my arms, and with the yearning, undeniable ache of seeing him again.

This time, there would be a meaning to the day.

**oOo**

**I was contemplating deeply on replacing Itachi with an older Sasuke, but I figured the personality just wouldn't mesh. Let me know if you guys think I should continue this! The world needs more ItaNaru. :D Don't you think?**


	2. When I Realized

**Second part to this story. (: I hope you guys are as excited as I am!**

**Onwards. :D**

**oOo**

I got dressed and made the long walk to school.

This time, I didn't take my orange jacket with me, but my orange sweater, instead. I figured I'd change it up a bit. I made my way inside the school without lending any interest to the people scowling me down. There would be none of that today, I had something to be determined about, I could hardly contain my excitement for the last class of the day.

The hours went by fairly quickly. Couldn't say I listened or did the work, but I got through it all in a more.. _productive_, way. The sketchbook Itachi had given me was nearly a quarter-filled, and a strong urge to show everything I'd drawn him rose in my throat. It stayed there, and I felt as though the butterflies in my stomach were to extract themselves through my neck at any second.

Suddenly, the bell that signalled 3rd period to end flooded the room, causing everyone to stampede out of the stifled room; not bothering to push in chairs, or notice the way the teacher was attempting to let everyone know that night's homework. I didn't care, either, so I followed behind, pushing my chair in beforehand.

It was lunch, and I found myself in the school's courtyard once again. I looked around, noticing the same thing as I had yesterday. People were talking, laughing, eating.. I looked at the way some girl was biting down on a blueberry muffin, and as if on cue, my stoamch gave out a longing rumble.

Man, I was hungry.

I dug my hands into my pockets, trying to feel for anything that might hold the shape of loose coins, but no such luck. Nothing but a an empty pack of gum. Disappointed and starving, I made my way towards the same bench from yesterday, which sat empty and abandoned as it always did.

I took a seat, took out my new sketchbook, and began to draw the outline of a toad. There was something about those warty creatures that fascinated me, and I remembered the one that sat at home waiting for me. I had named him Gamabunta, given he was quite large compared to any other toad I'd caught before. I smiled to myself, drawing through the plump body on the paper.

Before I could start the eyes, I noticed a shadow hovering above me. I figured it was someone just trying to bully me around, or say some rude comment about my hair or something. But to my surprise, I heard nothing. I refused to see who it was, nonetheless, and continued the drawing of the toad beneath my hand. Drawing was more important than having to deal with a reminder.

A reminder that I was nothing.

"You draw?"

The voice didn't sound resentful, angry, or accusing. I was a little tempted to look up at that point, but I decided that the toad was far more important. I used my finger to smudge the line underneath it's chubby neck.

"Yeah.."

"Hmph. Drawing's stupid."

There was a sudden frigidity on the muscles in my face, and I felt a bit of anger worming its way inside me. This time, I wouldn't let someone put me down that way. I remembered Itachi's words, and willed myself to look up, an offended expression deliberately showcasing on my face.

"_You're_ stupid!" I accused, meeting eyes with the person that stood before me, "Besides-"

Something about this person seemed strangely familiar. I studied his face, taking in the color of his hair and skin. His hair was an inky black, and his skin was a familiar shade of white. I let my mouth close, and I stared blankly as he began to take a seat in front of me, offering me a stick of his gum. This took me by surprise. No one had ever initiated an approach like that with me before.

"Save it", he said, his voice seemed stable, as if he wasn't at all offended by my comment, but instead amused, "I hear it all the time."

I stared at him, narrowing my eyes to see if I wasn't imagining this as I reached out for the stick of gum. The gum was solid underneath my fingers, and I knew I wasn't dreaming. I popped it in my mouth, tasting a strong whirl of mint.

"Who are you, anyway?" the stranger asked, looking at me with a raised, nicely-shaped eyebrow. I took a second to look at his eyebrows, and the undeniable feeling of familiarity scratched at my senses again. I shrugged it off. I couldn't think of a reason why I felt that way. I hardly knew anyone, in the first place.

"I'm Naruto", I stated, giving the boy a broad smile. He was the first to have asked me my name since I came to that school. I thought of what it might feel like to finally have a friend, and a tingle of excitement ran up my spine, "What about you?"

"Sasuke", he said, looking down at the toad on my paper, "Why a frog?"

I chuckled, scratching the back of my head as a way to ease the excitement, "It's a toad! It's my favorite animal."

"Dobe", he muttered, bringing his elbows to the table, "Toads are stupid."

I raised an offended eyebrow, "I take that as an insult, actually."

"Oh, really?" he challenged, giving me a grin that didn't look at all menacing or compromising, "Prove it."

I was on the verge of defending my point when a loud, blaring bell roared throughout the courtyard.

"Anyway, I'll see you later" I watched as he began to walk off, popping a stick of gum in his mouth as he went on.

I sat completely shocked, replaying what had just happened in my head. That had never happened to me before, and I heard myself giggle as I began to pack up my stuff. Something weird stopped me before I walked off. A smell. A _particular_ smell.

I sniffed the area where Sasuke had been sitting, and caught a strong whiff of cologne. I closed my eyes, trying to recall where I had encountered the unique, elegant odor. Almost immediately, red, haunting eyes made their way into my mind. Red eyes with long, flowing lashes, and dark, unmistakable outlines underneath.

_Itachi._

**oOo**

My next two periods went by in a flash.

The class of the day was finally about to start, and the undying ache to see Itachi seemed to have engorged inside my chest. I rushed through the halls, trying my best not to bump into anyone, and finally made my way inside the small classroom. I looked around and noticed I was the first to be there. Not even Itachi was there yet.

It seemed as though this was the only class he taught, and the only period; since he always arrived right when 6th period started. I figured it was because of the major budget cuts going on in schools lately. I took a seat, and watched as others starting making their way in. Less people had shown up compared to yesterday.

As if on cue to the clock on the wall, a tall, elegant figure made its way in as the clock ticked 2:00. I watched as he glided once again to the front of the room, greeting everyone a good afternoon, and tucking a few strands of hair behind his ear.

I couldn't take my eyes off him.

"Today will be a sharing experience", he began, taking his usual stride around the room, "Everyone will illustrate someone who inspires them", I watched intently as he stopped, taking a piece of paper out of a student's hand and crumbling it inside his palm, "and before the class ends, you will present what you've made."

A smile wormed its way to the muscles on my mouth, and I immediately took out my sketchpad. I was eager to do as he said. Eager to please, to be acknowledged.. by _Him_.

Before I began, I looked his way again, noticing he had made his way back to the front of the room. I took in the alluring sight, taking note of the tight turtleneck sweater he was wearing, sleeves pulled up and stained with white paint. He wore black jeans this time, hugging firmly at his long legs. I gazed upwards towards the unreasonably handsome face that beckoned to be stared at, and immediately felt a pool of blood snaking quickly into my face.

He was looking at me, too.

His red eyes were both piercing and enchanting, and it seemed as though with just one look, he could see right through me. My thoughts, my worries, my faults, my past, my rising devotion.. I felt as though he knew exactly how my future would play out, how my present would unfold; I felt as though with just one glance, he knew everything there was, and everything that there would be, about me.

My breath hitched, and I found myself completely unable to look away. He continued to look straight at me, pale hands resting behind him on the desk as everyone drew away at their paper. He must have noticed the embarrassment on my face and inability to stop staring at him, because he gave me a brief, (almost understanding), smile. I watched almost eagerly at the way the sides of his lips coiled ever so discretely, so kindly, as if he were smiling at someone dear to him.

Finally unable to maintain the dizzying situation, I looked down at my paper, secretly hoping he was still watching me. I knew then, that I was devoted to him. Devoted to his recognition, devoted dearly.

Recalling what the assignment was, I could think of only him. My inspiration stemmed from what he had told me yesterday.

If it wasn't for those words, I'd continue to be nothing aiming at nothing. I took a firm hold of my pencil and began tracing the outline to his face. It hardly gave him justice, but someday, I thought, it would look just like him. The way he drew, the way he made everything seem so real; one day, for him, I'd do it too.

I went back and forth on the hair and the shading. I worked without taking a break for the next hour until I was somewhat satisfied with the results. I looked down, a seemingly accurate impression of Itachi looking straight at me. I smiled, and heard him begin to address the class.

"You may stop now", he announced, standing from his desk, and walking towards the side of the room, "Sakura. You may go first."

I watched as a familiar pink made its way to the front of the room. I remembered her. It was the girl who insulted my shoes yesterday. I brought an elbow to the desk, watching halfheartedly at what she had to say and show.

"I'm Sakura Haruno", she began, clearing her throat and lifting her drawing for the class to see, "And the person who inspires me most is Sasuke."

She giggled, and I noticed the way Itachi seemed intrigued by her drawing. My interest was peaked, as well, since this Sasuke guy was the one who had approached me during lunch earlier. I wondered why she'd chosen him. I didn't recall anything particularly special about the guy..

"I drew Sasuke because he's smart, handsome, strong, charming.." she went on and on, and my interest began to disperse. Why was it that every girl in the room began to give out dreamy, euphoric sighs? "..cute, cool, romantic.."

A small, resonating chuckle was heard from the side of the room, "Sasuke? _Romantic_?"

I looked at the source, and it was Itachi. Did he know Sasuke, or something..?

Seeming as though she was finally done, Sakura sat back down, staring pensively at the drawing she had made as if it were to come to life at any moment. I gave out a sigh, wondering why everyone seemed so enticed by this 'Sasuke' as if he were some sort of teen idol, or something..

"Naruto", an elegant voice began, "Go on up."

I nervously stood up from my seat, taking the drawing I had made with me. What if he didn't like it..? What if it wasn't good enough?

I stood in front of the class, and noticed the way Itachi and everyone else was watching me. I decided I wouldn't act like a priss, and that I would go about it with pride and dignity.

"I'm Naruto Uzumaki!" I announced, lifting the sketchbook into the air, "And the person who inspires me most is Mr. Uchiha!"

I heard some people in the class compliment my drawing in hushed whispers, and I nearly died of joy. That had never happened before.. A surge of confidence rose in my throat, and it was one of the best feelings I had ever felt.

"Kiss-ass.." I heard the brunette guy from yesterday mutter, whom I later learned went by the name of Kiba.

I gave a broad smile to the class and continued, "Without him, I would have stopped drawing. He also gave me this sketchbook!"

I looked towards Itachi, and was greeted with a welcoming smile, "I'm honored, Naruto", I looked at him with bright eyes, like a dog would after being complimented on his trick, "You did very well."

Some students in the class clapped, and one of them said a 'good job Naruto' before I sat down in my seat. I felt unbelievably accomplished, and I had to pinch myself a few times while the rest of the presentations went by, just to make sure everything was real and happening.

When they were all finally over, the last bell of the day gave out a deafening blare. Nearly everyone in the classroom sprinted out as if their lives depended on it, not bothering to push in their chairs. I stood up and put on my backpack, watching as Itachi made his way to his desk.

"Naruto", he called out, motioning for me to approach him.

I smiled, happy to oblige and stood before him, holding unto the straps of my backpack.

"You have a radiance about you", he began, looking straight into my soul with those all-knowing eyes, "that I've never encountered before."

I flushed, holding back the ridiculous urge to smile until my face tore in half. I felt an orb of happiness form its way in my stomach, and I felt like I were to explode into a pile of mush at any second.

"I don't.. think I do.." I managed to let out, my voice shaky and unsure. I remembered the way people had treated me throughout my life. The feeling of being an outcast, and a disgrace to humanity.. I remembered how I had never had a friend.

"What kind of food do you like?"

I looked up, my eyes wide with both surrprise and curiosity, "Um well... I really, really like ramen-"

"I'll take you out for lunch tomorrow", he interrupted, leaning a bit closer to me, his eyes meeting my own, "My treat."

My heart exploded out of my chest, and I nearly fell over in shock.

My life expectancy was, no doubt, increased by at least 20 years.

**oOo**

**Ohh, Naru-kun falling in love. (x He's such a sweetheart. Feedback, anyone? It urges me to update faster. Thanks so much for reading!**


	3. When You Told Me I Was

**Wee!~ Sorry for the delay on this one. (: Was caught up with a few of my other ones. Here's part three!**

**I disclaim. If I owned Naruto, Itachi would take Naruto away in his arms and into happy land~**

**Onwards!**

**oOo**

That night went by quickly, as did the morning classes.

His words, his offer, repeated in my mind more times than I could ever be able to count. It was lunch time, and I'd made my way towards the table that I already knew would be empty. As anticipated, it was, and I sat down.

I looked around the courtyard. The same scenery of laughter, friendship, and smiles greeted me as they had the days before; and as always, I was not a part of it. A sense of loneliness overcame me for the fraction of a second. Before I could allow my mind to sink further into the impending solitude, however, I remembered that I still had him. That I still had Itachi. A meaning, an inspiration. I wanted to see him smile again, I decided.

I dug in my bag and got out my sketchbook. I came across the unfinished drawing of the toad I'd failed to complete, ultimately deciding that I would finish it at that moment; and when I would, I would show him. And maybe, just_ maybe_, he would smile again, the same way he had before.

My pencil began to trace circles on the toad's pudgy body, (which would eventually become the outline to its warts), but right before I could start on the one on its nose, I felt a familiar shadow hover over me once more. I stopped halfway on the circle that would be the most prominent, and looked up, only to meet my eyes with unreasonably black ones.

A simple, hardly-there smile graced the other person's face, "Hey, dobe."

I watched wide eyed as Sasuke sat before me on the table, similar to the way he had yesterday. I wondered why someone who everyone seemed to worship and adore for no logical reason now sat there; with _me_, when no one else would. When anyone, and_ everyone_, in that entire courtyard was dying just to be _near_ him.

Still skeptical of his true intentions, I stayed quiet, watching him cautiously.

"What's up with _you_?" he questioned, bringing an elbow to the table and resting his chin underneath one of his palms, "You look like I'm about to beat your ass, or something."

"Pshh. As if," a smile escaped me, and excitement began to encase me again. For some reason that I couldn't quite put my finger on, I didn't want him to leave. I sat up, a sign of obvious interest.

He raised an eyebrow, an inexpressive look on his face, "Why are you still drawing that stupid thing for?"

"You mean this?" I shoved the drawing of the toad in his face, "I already told you, it's a toad! And it's not stupid!" a grin marked my features, "Toads are Thee best."

He continued to look at me as if I had grown a third head. I took the opportunity to smell the air around us, the same defining aroma from yesterday immediately filled my nostrils. There wasn't a doubt in the world then that he wore the same cologne as Itachi.

"You remind me of my stupid br-"

"Do you know Mr. Uchiha?"

He gave me a weird look, and crossed his arms, a completely uninterested look on his face, "Yeah. Actually."

I smiled, excited that he had his class, too, (or at least I assumed so), "So do I! Isn't he_ awesome_?"

My excitement slowly began to disperse, however, when I watched Sasuke's sallow features begin to tighten. Did he have something against Itachi, or something..?

"No," he said flatly, a glint of a glare suddenly grazing in his eyes. For a moment, I panicked, afraid (somewhere inside) that he would walk away, and I would be alone again, "I don't want to talk about teachers. What videogames do you like?"

I had a slight need to say something in defense, but decided not to. In a way, I wanted to keep Itachi to myself. The subject of him at least, anyway. I then noticed that I didn't particularly enjoy the idea of him treading other people's minds. I replaced my previous expression with a broad smile, forgetting the subject had even been mentioned.

"Well.. I used to have a DS, but-"

"That's stupid."

I glared, crossing my arms in utter disagreement, "Why do you think everything's 'stupid' for? That's all you ever say about anything."

"Because most things are stupid._ Stupid,_" he smirked, leaning towards me with a challenging expression on his face, "Besides, PlayStation 3 is where all the shit's at."

I raised an eyebrow, attempting to challenge him in return, "Well..! Uh.."

In truth, I'd only had the DS for a day. My old foster dad said something about me breaking it the first day I got it.

"Thought so," he gave a reflexive smirk of satisfaction as he leaned back against the wall behind him, "Anything 'Nintendo' is stupid. Like that toad," he pointed at my unfinished drawing, a bemused expression marking him.

I laughed a little, content at the mere fact that I didn't spend that lunch alone thanks to him. He said a few things about the games he liked, and I tried my best to keep up, even though I was almost oblivious to everything he'd been saying. That didn't stop me from acting as if I knew of every game that was ever made, nonetheless.

I was desperate to be his friend. To be _anyone's_ friend. I was desperate to ease the loneliness.

"So, hey.." I looked up towards him, darting my eyes away from the drawing I was on the verge of finishing, "Do you want to hang out after school? I have to stay to do some work, anyway.."

I studied his face. A very faint glint in his ebony eyes that might have stood for hopefulness seemed slightly apparent to me, but I immediately discarded the possibility. Given how full of himself this guy acted, I was highly skeptical that he would be 'hopeful' towards _anything_. Much less, my response.

Itachi automatically crossed my mind.

No matter how excited I became at the idea of hanging out with Sasuke, the idea of spending time with Itachi brought upon an even greater excitement. There were no doubts as to who's company I would prefer.

"I can't today, actually.." I said, rubbing the back of my head in a notion of apology, "I have to stay home and do a lot of homework."

It might have been a trick of the fog blurring away ever so lightly at Sasuke's face, but I could have partially sworn that he looked a bit_ hurt_ when I rejected his offer. He didn't say anything, though, and instead, the loud blaring of the bell ceased any further chance of conversation.

Which was good, I figured, since he didn't even look at me once when he stood up and packed up all of his things.

Eager to ease the tension, and assure myself that he wasn't upset with me, I began to open my mouth to say something.

"What about tom-"

"Want one?" he stuck out his hand, offering me a stick of gum. I was a bit surprised at the sudden gesture, given that I was certain that he hated my guts just a few seconds ago. I gave him a large, toothy smile in sincere thanks, and popped it in my mouth, nonetheless, "See ya."

I stood next to the table we'd been sitting at, watching quietly as he began to walk away; his figure disappearing into the distance of the veiling fog the same way it had yesterday.

I took in a breath, noticing the same elegant smell from before being left once again in his wake.

**oOo **

Sasuke crossed my mind a few times later in the day, but when Art class began, the mere fact of his existence dispersed completely from my mind.

I sat in my seat, watching Itachi give everyone a lesson on Conceptualizing and designing three-dimensional figures such as cubes and cylindrical objects. I was hardly interested in the lesson itself, but it was him that I knew my interest flared towards.

I watched wordlessly in intense, curious silence as he eloquently used his hands as he talked. His lips flowed like silk as deep, resonating words escaped them; causing the whole classroom to fall into a trance of admiralty and respect. There wasn't a single distraction or interruption throughout the entire lesson. Even Kiba kept his mouth shut. Although, it must have been the fact that he had fallen asleep from the very beginning of class that remained the cause of such.

Itachi had his hair pulled back into the loose, liquid-like ponytail he always had it in, a few strands of colorless hair framing the sharp, stunning features of his face in all the right ways. I wondered deeply how it was that someone so incredibly magnetic could ever manage to exist. His arms were strong and lean, censored by the sleeved, skin-tight polo he'd been wearing. His fingers pointed at the board now and then, showcasing effeminate hands that seemed tepid to the touch. The heaviness of his lashes made it seem as though he wore some sort of cosmetic, and the tire lines underneath his eyes complimented the obvious aura of a dedicated artist.

There were a few instances that caused our eyes to meet, and each time, he would smile at me. Discretely enough that nobody else would notice, obvious enough for me to know that it was fully intended to be directed towards me. My skin flared, and I'm sure he would notice. When he turned away from the class and wrote something on the board with those long, refined letters of his, my gaze would fall to his legs.

Long, robust, and undeniably arousing.

In sheer embarrassment, I noticed as something began hardening between my legs. He might have noticed, (I'm not completely sure), because on the moment that my face burned in an obvious shade of red, he turned, and his eyes, (I could have sworn), gave a sudden brief gleam of**_ inducement_**.

I excused myself to the bathroom, and eagerly proceeded to rid myself of the undesired erection.

Class ended not long after I came back, leaving him and I as the last two in the room. Hopeful, (and terribly expectant), that his offer still remained from yesterday, I approached his desk, grabbing hold of the straps of my backpack in mere nervousness.

He was going through some of that day's assignments, his expression blank as he studied through them. My throat seemed clumped with what seemed to be nothing, and a horde of butterflies began to soar within my stomach. His scent was intoxicating, and I could feel the familiar feeling of earlier begin to worm its way into my body.

"Mr. Uchiha, are we-"

"Please, refer to me as Itachi," he said quietly, turning his gaze towards my own with those breathtaking, scarlet eyes, "It wouldn't feel right if you didn't. Naruto," The blood in my face betrayed me again, and he gave a light chuckle at the realization, "And yes. I did say I was going to take you out for lunch today, didn't I?"

A very lenient smile graced his unreasonably well-shaped lips, and I swallowed whatever substance clogged my vocal chords, "Y-yeah!"

An unanticipated chuckle escaped me, and the mere sound of it made me want to kick myself in embarrassment.

"Follow me," he stood, with his impossible beauty and all, and got his keys from his desk's drawer, beckoning me with a swift motion of his hand to follow him, "I know of a place that sells impeccable ramen."

Heedful to his words, (and any further commands that he would ever direct towards me), I followed closely behind.

His car was a convertible, and the mint condition of it stood out from all of the other cars in the school's parking lot.

We both stepped inside, and I was immediately engulfed by the smell of his cologne. He positioned the front rear mirror, and started the engine. From the corner of my eyes, I studied the way his hands would go about the steering wheel, a pale cream contrasted against black. Everything about him was absolutely incredible to me. Even the way his leg would push down on the pedals as he drove was astonishing.

The drive halfway there consisted of mostly silence. I was terrified to say anything that would make me seem stupid or undeserving of his company, so I kept quiet, twiddling away at my fingers.

"I've never done this before," he suddenly said, his voice piercing through the thick veil of muteness between us, "Taken one of my student's out somewhere."

I looked towards him, watching his blank expression stare out into the dashboard as we entered the nearly-empty freeway. I smiled at him, feeling a sense of specialty take over me.

Knowing that I was the first to his anything brought me a step closer to whatever heaven there was.

**oOo**

We reached the restaurant, and only 3 pairs of people were there.

It seemed like everyone had disappeared from the face of the city that day, but it was a comforting thought. The thought that it was only him and I on that day made my heart hitch some beats.

He allowed me to order whatever I wanted off the menu, and I decided on a huge bowl of miso ramen. When I let the waitress know, Itachi smiled at me, probably in response to the intense amount of excitement I was expressing towards the whole situation and setting. I liked ramen more than I liked toads, I could admit. But even more so than both combined, I liked..

"Tell me about you, Naruto."

My eyes fell on his, noticing the sudden interest depicting clearly in his own crimson ones. I smiled big, sitting up in my seat, and temporarily ridding myself of all perpetual self-loathing. For him. To him._ Just_ him.

"Well, I'm Naruto Uzumaki, and I-.."

I stopped, notcing I had absolutely nothing to say. I didn't quite know what 'Naruto Uzumaki' consisted of. No one had ever requested (out of self-interest) to know more about me. I looked down on the table, rummaging through my thoughts to think of something suiting to say to him.

Nothing.

"Your parents," he began, more than likely noticing my dilemma, "what are they like?"

My smile dropped, and my previous elation began to disappear. My parents.. I remembered them. Hardly, but I remembered them. Pictures of my mother's flaring red hair, and my father's yellow looked identical to my own. I recalled the popping of guns, and then I recalled their deaths.

"They're not here, anymore.." I looked towards Itachi's awaiting gaze, deep understanding emitting greatly from them, almost as if he knew my words before I even said them, "They were killed."

I watched as he brought out a picture from his wallet, placing it on the table for me to see, "My parents are no longer here, as well," he said, his voice soft and inaudible, "Disease took them from us."

"Us?"

Before he could answer me, the waitress returned with our bowls. The delicious smell of miso flooded my nostrils, and my previous depression and curiosity seemed to have momentarily subsided as I took the first slurp of the magical food. I must have been eating very quickly, because I noticed Itachi looking at me with a very apparent smile on his face. He had his palm underneath his chin, simply watching me make a complete fool out of myself.

I nervously gulped down the food in my mouth, and grinned. A tint of blush overcame me again, I knew.

"Naruto," he began, causing me to ignore all of my surroundings once more, "why don't they leave you alone?"

I looked away, ashamed of the reminder. The reminder that I knew I was nothing to not just only myself, but everyone that crossed paths with me. My throat ached suddenly, but I threatened myself with death if I even dared to cry.

"I don't know.. I'm annoying, I guess. I don't wear the right things," I didn't dare look at him, "I don't listen to the right music, or say the right things.."

A few moments after, he laughed. Not a mocking laugh, and not in the least bit demeaning, but a_ friendly_ laugh. Almost as if I had been some sort of worshipped president stating such ridiculous things.

"I beg to differ, Naruto," he said quietly, bringing me to face him again with one of his fingers from across the table, "I think you're 'right' in all the 'right' ways."

I looked up at him, shocked at both his sudden, unpredicted touch and his choice words. I felt my heart eradicate mercilessly, at not only his warmth, but of the way he'd been looking at me. Almost endearing. Almost as if.. he truly believed what he said.

He took his warmth away from me, and began to indulge on his drink wordlessly. The remainder of our food was eaten in compliant, comfortable silence.

We were in his car again, and he'd lowered the roof to the car.

I watched quietly as the wind of the moonlit night danced through his hair, allowing the faint scent of his shampoo to spill inside my nostrils. It was floral, and utterly unforgettable. Like the rest of him was.

He offered to drive me home, and I happily complied.

We talked about certain art careers and majors that he thought would serve me well in the future, and of his interest in traditional conceptualization over computer generated art. He explained the process of applying for art school thoroughly, assuring me several times that I had everything it took to be an accomplished, self-made artist. His compliments overwhelmed me, and I barely managed to breathe the whole ride home.

He was just so.. perfect.

My devotion and adoration towards him increased with every moment that went by, causing me to concentrate more so on his lips than on anything else as he continued to speak to me through the chilling winds of that autumn night.

Before I really ever wanted to, we reached my apartment. The familiarity of the building reminded me of my persistent loneliness, and it hurt to even think about what reality really consisted of. I stepped out, and he offered to walk me to my door. Eager to spend as much time with him as possible, I accepted, and we walked up the flight of stairs together. The warmth of his arm, (which rested so very close to mine), emitted unto my own, causing desirous, sultry chills to tremble down my spine.

We reached my door, and I stared at the knob sadly. He must have noticed.

"Naruto."

I turned towards his call, realizing that he was now standing much closer to me then ever before. His chest was but a mere centimeter away from my nose, and I felt as he brought a hand beneath my chin to lift my stunned eyes towards his own.

I merely stared, shocked and dazed at the illogical beauty that he portrayed underneath the moonlight; I could feel my legs begin to give out on me, and I knew I were to faint at any moment.

"You're beautiful."

With a swift movement of his, I felt a foreign warmth encase my lips, sealing them the same way my fate had been sealed the moment I laid eyes on him. He moved me closer towards him, using his other hand to meet his body against my own until I could feel every sensuous, muscular curve of his chest.

Taken to another world, I allowed my eyes to lid slowly, the fading image of his closed ones haunting my mind as he moved softly against me. His lips were so fluid, and his hair cascaded like a black river against my shoulder the same way it did when he first showed me how to hold my pencil correctly. I could smell him, and I began to feel the way his hands began to trail behind my back, feeling slowly at the curve of my spine.

I breathed in, a small noise emitting from within my throat when he pushed his mouth closer against my own. I found my arms nervously begin to wrap themselves around him, proving that the person before me was anything but an illusion. He was firm, he was perfect.

Before I could attempt to kiss him in return, he pulled away, robbing me of the staggering comfort I had felt moments before. I looked up at him dreamily, taking in the way his red, glimmering eyes watched me almost.. _mournfully_.

"May I come in with you..?"

His words were quiet. A tinge of fright tainted them, almost as if he had asked for something completely forbidden and unholy.

Fascinated, and entirely overcome by the craving of him, I allowed the both of us to step inside.

**oOo**

**YAY. :D Fellatio, anyone? lul~ jkk You will never know what is to come unless you let me know how much you wanna know~ o-o Poor Sasukay, though. You can't help but to feel bad for him. D: Feedback, anyone? Thanks for reading!**


	4. When I Ripped It All

**OMG! UPDATE! Haha, damn, I have no excuse for taking almost five months to update this. I'm horrible, I know. But there ain't no time like the present! I missed this story.. I missed ItaNaru. D: wah~**

**I have NOT abandoned this story, guyzz. Never.**

**Warnings: Explicit situations between an adult and a minor. Offended? Turn back now.**

**Let us begin!**

**oOo**

My heart sped. I could feel it pulsing beneath my chest.

My fingers fumbled fruitlessly with the fickle locks, my nerves feasting frantically at my flushing face.

I could feel the blood pooling. Pooling everywhere. My cheeks, my chest, in between my legs..

Itachi was in the same room as me.

Itachi, someone so fair and gallant, with _**me**_. In my shit of an apartment.

When the lock finally clicked in finality, I turned, once again beholding the delicate, midnight beauty of what was Itachi. His long, sable hair fell onto his face like rivers of ink, framing and caressing his sorcerous features ever so gently.

His eyes, however, were what made him utterly inimitable.

A deep sanguine.

Compelling, piercing, and beautifully lavished with an abundant array of thick, ebony lashes. His eyes bore holes into me, reading and knowing absolutely everything that crossed my mind.

I was sure of it. Those all-knowing eyes, that caring voice; so soft, yet so firm. Even as I stupidly stood there in front of the door trying my absolute best to control the muscles on my face, I knew that he could read me like a wide open book.

My legs shook from beneath me from sheer exhilaration, my face burned, my brows quivered. He was but mere inches away from me. His smell, which remained the exact same as it was every day, enclosed him in an intoxicating, lascivious cloud of.. _enchantment_.

His lips were full, lightly tinted. His skin, so soft.

Everything about him made me want to die in his arms.

"Naruto," he spoke, closing the gap that remained between us as he took a small step forward.

My eyes met with his chest, and I was forced to look up, adhering to my name. His eyes lowered to the side momentarily, his brows furrowed lightly in a notion of contemplation. For a moment, I felt horribly anxious, fearing any form of rejection.

I wanted him so badly. The unattainable, the impossible.. I wanted it. I wanted it more than anything.

I gulped thickly, my eyes moistening at the heavy array of thoughts sprinting and fleeting through my head. I was terrified. My pulse was frantic, my fingers trembled.

Would he tell me that it was all a mistake..? That I was ugly? That I was stupid?

"Can I.."

His face was unreadable, only his brows remained pressed.

I could feel a whimper riding up against my burning throat, the air stuck inside my lungs. I was so afraid.

"Can I.. kiss you.. again?"

His voice was lace against milk.

A hushed whisper.

I felt myself drowning in it, my legs giving out. The relief was untellable. My eyes widened, a shameless amount of blood pooling itself against my cheeks as I stared into his magical, geranium eyes.

I knew then, that angels were real. That there was, indeed, a heaven.

I was entirely taken.

"Y-yes.. I mean, of course you ca-"

His lips sealed me, an exasperation of breath caught deeply in my throat.

I felt myself melt against him, feeling as the bones in my legs churned into goo. His arms caught my fall, however, as he led me carefully against the door, my back pressed firmly against the wooden surface.

He was so soft. So warm.

His lips were cautious against my own, almost as if he were somehow.. _timid_.

I was stiff, unsure of what to do. I had never kissed anyone before. Aside from the brief one we'd shared earlier, I knew absolutely nothing. I trembled uneasily at the thought, hoping my blatant inexperience didn't show through to him. Hoping it didn't dissatisfy him, displease him, or make him want to stop..

He was so perfect. And I.. I was so.. I was nothing.

He must have noticed my awkwardness, because almost as quickly as it'd started, it ended. My eyes reluctantly opened, the blurry image of his complexion enamoring me into a deeper void. I could still feel the warmth of his figure pressed securely against me, but with every breath, it left me. Leaving me a cold, heaving mess against the wood of the door.

I tried looking into his eyes, my vision still hazy. My lips were searing in heat, the thickness that rested more and more painfully beneath my denim jeans throbbing in agitation. I was afraid, I knew it, but I wanted him so much that I was willing to throw myself at him again, to beg, to_ plead_ for his attention.

The sound of his penetrative voice, however, stopped me from the ridiculous action; his hand ceasing my attempt to touch him in mid-air.

"I don't.. I don't want to force you to do anything," his eyes dimmed, a forlorn expression on his face as he gently began to let go of my wrist. He looked to the side, away from me. "I'm sorry. I should leave."

"No!" my voice was louder than I meant for it to be, a dam of tears already threatening the rims of my eyes. The fear in me was so great. The fear of losing him. I would do anything, anything at all to keep him there. "I mean, no.. Please don't leave. Please."

"Naruto, this is not righ-"

"It doesn't matter!" I shouted, allowing a tear to fall, "I like you.." my voice was a pitiful shrill, a quiet, high-pitched confession. I wouldn't have blamed him then if he had laughed. I was so pathetic. "I like you.. I like you so much. Please.. Don't leave."

Water spilled from my face. I could feel my brows quivering. I was a disgusting, shameless mess.

I wouldn't dare look at him, and I stared towards the ground, my body shaking. I couldn't possibly be able to explain what I felt for him; so quickly, so deeply.

I was certain then that he would laugh at my childish idiocy.

"Naruto, look at me," his voice was a ghostly ululation, and I began to feel the warmth of his chest being pressed against me again.

I was taken back, shocked, and I shivered, my eyes (though blurry and raw from tears), managed to focus with his own, and I nearly fainted from the sheer amount of tension.

He was so beautiful.

Devoted in not losing him again, I quickly wrapped my arms around his chiseled figure, pulling him in. His hand lifted my chin, and within the expanse of one torturous second, his lips met once more with my own.

This time, however, fiercely.

I was entirely submissive between his figure and the wall. I could feel something hard from in between his legs pressing firmly against my stomach. Something thick and hot. I knew almost immediately what it was, and I let out a stifled groan against our kiss. The ache beneath my jeans solidified into rock so much so that it began to feel painful.

I needed him. I needed more of him.

His hips began to slowly rock themselves against me, crushing and caressing his length against my pelvis as he continued to kiss me. I whimpered powerlessly against him, my body heating with every sensuous movement that he made. This seemed to have encouraged him further, because right at that moment, he began to probe against my mouth with his tongue, demanding an entrance. Needy and absolutely delirious, I opened wide, unsure of what to do.

He didn't seem to mind my clumsiness, however, and he immediately began to trace his tongue against my own, beseeching me for some sort of response. I was so nervous and afraid that I would do something stupid and unappealing that I simply tried my best to mimic his movements, licking at whatever I could from inside his honeydew mouth.

The taste of him was exquisite. Recherche. Something I could never be able to explain.

All I knew was that I was hungry for it, ravenous.

Elicited moans resonated from within my throat, my erection furious and feverish against me. I began to rock my hips against his, following his rhythm; absolutely frantic for any form of friction. My body reached a boiling temperature, and the clothes that I had on began to feel cumbersome and itchy. My hands traced at the lovely curve of his chiseled spine, the sweet smell of his hair filling my nostrils.

My need for him was frenetic. Wild, and lewd.

I was a virgin, yet I knew that I needed him inside.

My dick twitched in response to the thought, agreeing in wet hysteria.

I pushed my tongue against his more harshly, swallowing his taste whenever he allowed me. His breath was heavy against my cheek, and I knew that he felt it, too. This hot, erotic feeling.

The epitome of need and sin.

I was thirteen (a month from fourteen), and he was twenty-six.

Though, that had never fazed me. I was devoted to him. He could have me. I _wanted_ him to.

Frantic for oxygen, we pulled away, our mouths separating with a suggestive sound. I heaved for much-needed air, looking into his glossy eyes. A thin veil of pink graced his ravishing features, his lips pinker than before; swollen. He looked utterly amazing, sexy, _debauched_.

His censored length still rubbed and pressed against me in rhythmic thrusts, and I could see him gently biting down onto his bottom lip; suppressing the sounds that I, myself, had failed to suppress.

That's when I noticed the way I'd been mewling.

I turned away shyly, ashamed.

"Don't.. Don't look away," he said, his voice shaky. His finger guided my chin back towards him, and I bit my lip, trying to hold back the dirty noises I'd been making. "I.. I like it."

My face, if possible, reddened further.

Before I could make my bold move at reaching for his lips again, however, he began to slowly slither beneath me.

I watched in confusion as he settled on his knees before me, leaving me a whimpering mess at the notion of his face now entirely facing what I was most fearful of him noticing.

My dick was thick and obvious beneath my jeans, the outline of it twitching shamelessly from the lack of attention. I tried to hide the vulgar monstrosity with my hands, wholly embarrassed, but he gently pushed them away, looking up towards me. There was a lustful expression on his face, an expression that nearly sent me on automated orgasm.

"It's okay, Naruto.." he whispered, his nimble fingers making their way towards the zipper of my jeans.

The action surprised me, and excited me all at the same time. A blatant moan escaped me as my brows quivered in anticipation.

I could regretfully admit to the porn magazines that inhabited the lower interior of my bed, which was the only reason why I partially knew what he was planning to do next.

I squirmed against the wall, his sluggish movements forcing my cock to make raunchy movements from beneath my pants. I could already feel my boxers drenching and my balls retreating against me.

My will failed me, allowing a quivering whimper to slide from my throat the moment my dick bounced from out of my clothes. I watched in horror as it brushed against Itachi's nose ever so lightly, soiling him there with a string of sticky pre-cum.

A tear fell from my eye. A tear of sheer and utter embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorr-"

He gave a small, microscopic smile.

"Shh, it's alright."

Before I could say anything else, (or even begin to _think_ of how self-conscious I was of him seeing that part of me due to the fact that I was not very proud of it, and that I had a very obvious lack of hair there), his lips wrapped around the reddened head.

I took in a heavy, noisy breath, pushing my back harshly against the wall in response to the overwhelming sensation. My eyes clenched themselves shut, my body shaking.

His mouth was hot and wet, his tongue licking on the underside of it.

I felt like dying.

I had never in my short life felt anything like it before.

Sure, I'd read dirty excerpts on smutty magazines before, overheard a few people's conversations, watched people's expressions on porn videos.. but never in my diminutive life had I imagined that I'd ever _experience_ it.

Much less.. with someone so unforgivably beautiful.

I quickly brought my hand to my mouth, droning out the noises that I failed miserably at keeping down. His lashes brushed sweetly against his marked cheeks, his lips wrapping more and more firmly against the thin skin on my dick. I quivered powerlessly against the wall, watching with slitted eyes at the way he began to submerge himself against me, his cheeks puffing.

The feeling was staggering.

I could no longer keep it in, and I broke down in a series of shameless, unabashed moans.

Before I could do much of it, however, he swallowed me.

My eyes widened at the shocking sensation, my brows slanted deeply in blatant pleasure. I looked below, greeted with the salacious, irreplaceable view of him taking me into his throat. I could feel as the tip of my dick pressed against his uvula, ensuing for an inexplicable friction that sent me straight into the braces of Eden.

My hips jutted forward on their own, frantic for more of that wet warmth.

Warmth that came from _him_.

Itachi.

"A-ahh..!" My entire body flushed, the feeling of his chin pressing against my retreating balls again and again driving me absolutely insane, "I-Ita..chi..!"

His speed increased, the wet, erotic sound of him piercing his throat against me flooding the entirety of the room. My eyes rolled back against my skull, feeling as the tide of release inched closer and closer towards me.

I managed to look down towards him again, my mouth agape with mewls and cries, and caught sight of his hand pumping furiously against his own heated flesh.

The mere _display_ of it was all it took.

He was massive.

In both length and width alike; surpassing even the ones I'd seen in magazines.

He was bare, exempt of all hair, his thick prick drenched in his own share of bodily fluids. That, and the feeling of his mouth against me was more than enough to send me over the edge and beyond.

He gave a final, loud suck, and I came.

I came so hard, in fact, that I swear I saw god.

I was a trembling, sweating mess against the wall, my eyes partially hidden behind their sockets as I felt him furiously swallow my seed. I heard the clamorous smacking of his hand pumping against himself increasing. And moments after, a very small groan of erotic satisfaction reverberated from his chest.

He pulled away from me slowly, and I stole a quick glance at his bare muscle, taking in how it lied lewdly soused in his own seed.

I watched in a complete daze, defeated and fatigued against the wall by the sheer _power_ of my previous orgasm as he began to stand from his kneeling position. My vision was blurry from lingering arousal, but I could still make out the breathtaking outline of his handsome face.

He wiped white residue from the corner of his lips, avoiding my eyes as he quickly zipped up his pants.

This immediately disconcerted me.

The fear from before began to rise from within me again, my heart regaining its hysterical pace.

Frantic and absolutely devoted in pleasing him in any way I possibly could, I regained some control over my body, opening my mouth to speak.

"Do you want me to.. as well?" my voice was soft and timid, offering the only thing that I could think of at that moment.

I genuinely had no idea how these things worked, and I was worried out of my complete mind that he was upset with me over the fact that I had not returned the favor.

I would give him absolutely anything. Anything at all that he wanted.

Right when I decided to give out a weak smile as a sign of my unwavering devotion, my pulse pounding mercilessly against my chest, he looked up towards me; an incredulous look marked deeply on his face.

My smile immediately dropped.

"Naruto.. By god, I am so sorry," his eyes widened, frenzied, his resonant voice laced with somber and profound regret.

He looked to the side several times, pressing my hands back against me when I had attempted to reach out for him in sheer desperation.

"Ita-"

"It's my fault.." he backed away from me, the vermillion in his eyes displaying at its fullest extent from the disbelieving expression on his face. His hand traced along his temple, expressing his sudden distress.

My heart weakened and broke from within me, tears marring from my face.

"I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, Naruto."

I watched helplessly with wide open eyes as he undid the locks to the door, his fingers trembling. I tried to say something, to plead, to _beg_.. But the only thing that managed to escape me was a long, pitiful cry.

A wail of lament; of heartache.

The pain that I felt when I watched him leave ever so abruptly for a reason that I couldn't even begin to understand made me want to keel over dead.

His floral cologne remained inside my apartment. The gallant fragrance of his shampoo, of his skin..

His warmth rested still on my chest, torturing me. _Reminding_ me.

I slid down from the wood of the door, convulsing violently from my fricative sobbing.

I was broken. Confused.

I was alone again. Abandoned.

My weeping went on for hours. I ripped every single drawing that I could find in my room out of sheer and utter hatred for myself. Kicked at the wall, punched at nothing.

Why was I the way I was? Why was I so ugly..?

Why couldn't I had been born just a little better? A little prettier? A little smarter?

I cursed my dead parents that night; replaying what had happened with Itachi incessantly in my mind as I cried myself into a hateful sleep.

**oOo**

School was hell.

I barely managed through the first half of the day, having not cared at all for Kiba's insistent teasing.

Everyone and everything was invisible. Nothing mattered. I left my sketchbook at home, convinced that I was a failure.

A _disgusting_ failure.

Why else had Itachi left the way he had?

Because I deserved it. Because I was impossible to care about, let alone, _love._

Especially by someone like him. Someone so talented and perfect.. Someone who could quite clearly have anything and _whatever_ he wanted.

Replaying the searing kisses we shared in my mind, if possible, worsened the situation.

I felt lower than trash. Lower than the lowest shit ever graced by humanity.

When lunchtime came, I ignored the pink-haired bitch that went on about my clothes that day, and trudged towards the table that always lied abandoned.

Abandoned and undesirable. Ugly and repulsive, in one way or the other.

Like me.

I slammed my head against the table, closing my eyes. My head hurt. My body did, too. I hardly slept the night before, dreading the hell out of art class.

The last thing I wanted to do was face Itachi again.

To have to see him looking at me with hate in his eyes; revulsion. The same way everyone else looked at me.

Everyone except-

"Hey, dobe."

I lifted my head at the sound of the familiar voice, my eyes still watery from the tears that I had forced back. I watched through dampened vision as a very familiar figure took a seat in front of me, his brow risen up high.

"The hell's up with you?"

I quickly wiped away the remnants from my eyes with my sleeve, intent on not allowing my only ever friend to see me like this.

I had almost forgotten about Sasuke.

"Nothing.. Just.. tired. I couldn't sleep last night," I tried to tuck all of the hurt away, but I'm sure that some of it still had shone through my words.

"Hn. You're a bad liar," he muttered, bringing an elbow to the table to balance his bored, quizzical expression. "C'mon, tell me."

I looked down towards my lap, trying my absolute best to chase last night out of every corner of my mind, lest I broke down in tears in front of Sasuke.

"I already did. I'm just.. not feeling too great."

I avoided his gaze, but when I finally urged myself to look at him from his lack of reply, I was slightly surprised. There was a sort of.. concerned, no, _worried_, expression on his face.

My eyebrow rose, completely taken back.

I had never seen that look before. Much less, directed towards me.

"Dobe.. Skip school with me."

**oOo**

**OMFG. NARUTO, HOW COULD YOU THINK SUCH A THINGggg? Haha xD **

**Super Sasuke to the rescue! Will he try to steal Naru's heart away? O: dun-dun-DUNNN. **

**Review my people! It keeps me going. Seriously. I absolutely adore your feedback with every inch and corner of my heart. Until next time. xx**


	5. When I Missed You

**Honestly, it's SUPER rare when I find myself loving to write a story. And this one has become just that. Fast update, and all. Thank you all for your kind words.. It makes my hectic, highly unorganized life complete. :D lmao Starting school this Monday! Can't wait to drool over all of those secksy art professorssss... o-o lmao**

**Onwards! I disclaim.**

**oOo**

I stared blankly into the inky blackness of his eyes, tongueless.

My thoughts weren't there anymore. His shocking offer was a numbing string of liquid somewhere on my back.

"Is that a no..?"

My brow began to twitch, threatening to express the utter elation I was slowly beginning to embrace. He wanted to spend time with me.

Someone, _anyone_, wanted to spend time with me. My lips cramped, pulling violently at the cavums on my face, causing me to smile.

"Y-yes..! I mean, yeah!"

My desperation took over, rendering a childish giggle. Sasuke must have been looking at me weird, but I hardly cared. I even stood before he did.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, however, I remembered Itachi. His face, his legs. What he might have been wearing to class that day..

Having been partly sucked into the thought of him, my hands slowly met again with the table, tempting me to sit back down and carry on until the end of the day. To see him. To cling to the diminutive possibility that, perhaps, last night hadn't transpired the way it had.

That it was all just a wonderful yet horrible dream that I just happened to unwittingly have.

Before I could delve further into the wave of contemplation, though, Sasuke tossed me my bag. I caught it in my arms, watching as he casually flipped his own behind his shoulder. I looked towards the table one last time, wondering deeply if this decision would be alright.

I wanted to see him.

I wanted to, so bad.

But the mere _thought_ of Itachi hating me.. Of him potentially looking at me with revulsion in his eyes because of what I had caused just last night.. It made me never want to show my face to him again. I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve _him_.

I didn't deserve anything.

"Let's go through the back, no one ever hangs there."

It took me a minute to hear him, to realize Sasuke was even still standing there. "What..?"

"The back, _stupid_. Let's go."

I followed blindly behind him, my hand clenching a little unto the strap of my backpack. I had skipped school several times before in the past, but it was always by myself. For a moment, I wondered if Sasuke was simply planning to lead me into a deserted alley to beat the crap out of me. I hardly found myself flinching at the idea. I don't think I would've really minded it.

He stopped suddenly, nearly causing me to trip over him. His hand pushed my shoulder a little as he cautiously peeked from behind the wall that kept us from the staff parking lot. I stood completely still, holding my breath.

"We make a run for it on the count of three."

"Okay.."

"One," he whispered, his hand slipping slowly from my shoulder, "Two.." he gave me a chaste glance before the mark, mischief scintillating in his ebony eyes. "_Three_."

And with a mutual nod, we raced the hell out of there.

We ran gracelessly through the heap of cars, my legs frantic to keep up with him. He was fast. _Very_ fast. Giving the obvious impression that he was probably in the track or football team.

Sasuke was several inches taller than me, and his figure wasn't the smallest. His legs were chiseled from beneath his skinnies, and his band tee (which was like a second skin against him) melded onto his built, athletic figure. There were two silver chains that hung from both his hips, along with several rubber bracelets adorning his wrists. He had very pale, sallow skin, which was an exigent contrast against all of the black that he wore to school without fail.

I think that was the first time that I truly noticed just how_ cool _the guy really was.

No wonder everyone in the entire planet claimed to be in love with him. He looked like one of those rock-stars I would see on the front cover of metal magazines. I smiled a little, content beyond belief that someone like him didn't mind being around someone like me.

As we rushed through the lot, though, he would leave something behind that would make me feel incessantly guilty with every step that I took.

The smell. The very same haunting, irrevocable smell that Itachi always smelled of without falter. My eyes narrowed towards the cement, my legs slowing midway through the car-crowded place. Half of me ached and _plead_ to go back, to go to art class.

I heard Sasuke slow down from several feet away when I finally found myself standing at a complete stand-still.

_Well, I think you're 'right' in all the 'right' ways._

My heart began to break again, to the rhythm of his voice.

_You have a radiance.. That I have never encountered before._

My face tensed, and I knew that I would cry soon. I wanted to go back. Gods knew I _needed_ to go back.

"Hurry the hell up, stupid," Sasuke hissed, his voice a little breathless and disbelieving, "We can't chicken out now."

I turned to the left, my eyes downcast with incoming tears as I caught the regrettable sight of Itachi's black convertible in one of the parking spaces. It looked the same way it did when he had taken me out for lunch. The hurt was far too much by then, and my foot gave a shove towards the general direction of the gate Sasuke and I had left wide open.

I couldn't possibly live without seeing him at least once that day.

"What the hell, Naruto?" Sasuke hissed again, this time a little louder than before. He began to carefully jog towards me, a frustrated look on his pale, symmetrical face. "They'll _see_ us, moron."

"I-I c-can't-"

He looked at me once, and I knew fully well that I had already started crying.

He took me by the wrist without saying anything, however, gracelessly rushing us out of there.

I could still smell Itachi on him.

**oOo**

Our walk to wherever we were going was mostly silent.

I didn't dare look at Sasuke, fearing the possibility that he would mock me for having cried like a total twit just minutes ago.

I couldn't have blamed him, though. Who would enjoy the company of a crybaby? Especially one who seemed to have cried simply because it was their first time flaking out on school? My cheeks reddened, embarrassed.

Surely this would be the last time he would associate himself with me. Another shot at the heart. I wondered if this time it would truly just shatter, causing me to fall over dead from sudden heart failure.

We were walking at a similar pace down the sidewalks, except my eyes were cast down towards the cement and his were somewhere straight ahead. I could hear him chewing gum, and for a moment I wondered deeply why he seemed to like the stuff as much as he did.

"Where do you wanna go?"

My eyes widened a little, at the fact that Sasuke was still even there, and I allowed my gaze to secretly shift towards his face. He was completely expressionless, if not for the slight curve of his brow that annotated boredom. My voice was stuck somewhere in my throat, the only coherent thought running through my head being the word 'Back'.

I wanted to go Back. Back where _he_ was.

I shoved my hands in my pockets, the ghostly feeling of Itachi's lips making themselves faintly present somewhere on my neck. Like they had been.. just yesterday.

Was I..

"Are you gay?"

I froze on the spot, the air having been knocked away from my lungs.

I dared to meet eyes with Sasuke this time, his face completely indifferent to the staggering question. I didn't know how to answer him.. All I knew was that people who were indeed gay were often excluded from things. Almost as much as me, even. I was shamefully thankful of this, however. The comfort that I was not the only unwilling outcast out there giving me the hope that I had helplessly clung to all my life.

"What do you.. What do you mean?"

"Do you like guys?" he stood still in his stride, facing me directly.

I thought I would die underneath the tension, my eyes like pendulums between him and the hard cement. I didn't know the answer. All I truly knew was that Itachi was quite obviously a guy and that I had liked the way he had kissed me last night. Did that count as being gay?

"I just think that sweater you wear is kind of.." he paused for a moment, getting an eyeful of my attire. "Gay."

I stared at him, dumbfounded.

I liked the way girls wore their skirts really high sometimes. I even liked Sakura's legs now and then whenever she wore really tight pants. I had looked at boobs on porn magazines in the past.. Did that count as gay? Was it straight? Not straight? Abnormal? Deranged?

I looked to the side, completely confused. "I.. I don't know."

Sasuke didn't say anything, simply resuming his walk down the cracked sidewalk we'd been standing on.

"You've gotta get yourself a different sweater."

**oOo**

We were at a park.

I felt so incredibly awkward by that time that I hardly even knew where to put my hands.

Sasuke was busy throwing rocks at a nearby pond, scaring all the ducks away. His rubber bracelets made subtle noises whenever he skillfully tossed the pebbles in several different directions, a smirk present on his face whenever he managed to make it skip a few times through the muddled water.

It was hellishly cold, yet he wore no jacket. I marveled how he did it. I was freezing, nearly shaking.

"You hardly talk. You're kind of boring sometimes."

I turned to look at him, roughly caressing my arms for much-needed warmth. "I.. I'm sorry. It's just.. I don't know. Nevermind."

"Tell me."

I paused, looking towards my feet. "No one likes me."

"I like you."

"W-wha-"

"Even though you're an idiot crybaby. You're still kind of cool."

For a moment, I could have sworn I had died and revived all at the same time. I couldn't believe it. My heart jumped and tossed within my chest, begging to escape. The frenetic need for him to be my friend, my _real _friend, seared and coursed through my every vein. I wanted the feeling so bad.. To have had friendship. To have been able to_ truly _experience it.

I felt myself smile, biting my tongue to hold back the girlish chuckle that would've otherwise escaped.

He stopped throwing rocks at the pond, turning to face me.

"Have you ever gotten a blowjob before?"

How Sasuke managed to ask the most unsettling questions without as much as flinching a single muscle on his face? I did not know.

A loud shade of red began to encase the entirety of my face, however, my fingers rubbing fiercely against my palms.

Though I was young and rather inexperienced in most general things, I knew fully well what a blowjob was.

For a second, I remembered the way Itachi's face had looked between my legs, my.. _thing _having been buried deep inside his hot, velvety mouth. His red eyes looked like rubies as he had jerked himself off at the same time, a devilish glow in the darkness of the room that night.

If at all possible, I felt myself blushing further. My body rose a little in temperature, and I didn't feel so cold anymore.

"W-well.. I.." I didn't dare look at Sasuke, my face downcast towards my fiddling shoes.

"Heh, you have, haven't you?" I could literally _feel_ him smiling that arrogant sneer he'd entirely mastered somewhere throughout his life. "Spill the beans. Who was it?"

My eyes widened, and somehow, I found myself looking straight at him. He looked like a ghost in the gloom of that foggy afternoon. A goth-like, vampire-y one, no less. No wonder girls from all over the recesses of the school gushed over him.

For a moment, he reminded me a lot of.. No, he completely _**resembled**_ Itachi.

The smell, the shade of his hair, his nose, his jaw, the shape of his neck..

"Bet it was that Sakura whore, huh? She sucks _everyone_ off," he gave a chaste chuckle, crossing his arms in front of himself in a notion of looking suave.

A little _too_ suave, in my opinion, considering the fact he had just brutally accused someone who was quite obviously head over heels for him with such a blatant vulgarity.

There was no way he could_ ever_ resemble Itachi, I decided. Itachi would never say such distasteful things.

"N-no.. It wasn't her. And she can be a little mean sometimes and all, but I don't think she's all that bad.."

"_What_?" he gave me an incredulous look, his eyes squinted below his furrowed brows. "Dude, what the fuck? She has a million diseases on her. Not even the seniors touch her anymore. Not that you would know, anyway. You're just a freshman."

I glared at him a little, questioning why the creator decided to unfairly grace this jerk with such unearthly, killer looks.

His eyes were sharp and black, lashed just enough to give the illusion of cosmetic. His nose was perfectly shaped like his jaw, and his skin was a field of achromatic lace.

Hell, I wish I had a _quarter_ of his looks. Maybe then Itachi wouldn't have left the way he had..

"No, but seriously, who sucked you off?"

"I..I don't wanna say.." I turned away shyly, trying my hardest not to remember what was still so very fresh.

"Hn. Was it any good?"

I bit my lip a little, avoiding his stony gaze. "Yeah.. It was, I guess.."

"You're really not going to tell me who it was, are you?"

My continued silence was enough for Sasuke to finally drop the subject.

If I had told him, he definitely would've freaked, beaten the shit out of me for being a fag, told the whole world, and Itachi would've most certainly lost his job. Among other things that I shook away with the shiver of my spine.

That's when it finally hit me.

Maybe that's why he had left..? His job?

I stayed quiet for a long moment, listening to the loud blaring of Sasuke's headphones.

**oOo**

I was laughing the guts out of myself.

Throughout the time we were there, somehow, just _somehow_, Sasuke and I ended up running around the entire empty park like a pair of crazed idiots.

He was chasing after me this time, his trail hot behind my own. It was a marvel how he still hadn't been able to tag me, considering his insanely chiseled athletic build and long legs compared to my own puny ones and whatnot.

The air was a cold splinter against my face as I raced throughout the field for all that my legs would take me, though I hardly even felt it. I didn't even have my orange sweater on anymore.

It felt nice.

To laugh, to scream, to be myself around someone, _anyone_, if not for this crude but sensible jerk.

I kind of started to really like Sasuke. His company, the fact that he now considered me his friend. He even told me that he did somewhere throughout the day, and I damn nearly fainted when he had.

One thing lead to another, and, well.. we'd even made a _pact_. He'd hung two of his fingers against two of my own for the integral of a long second, and then he let go.

"Friends," he'd said.

I smiled big, agreeing before we began our childish game of chase.

Itachi had almost grown a distant memory if not for the constant cloud of cologne Sasuke would leave anywhere he ran. That was always a constant reminder. Though the fact that I was having so much fucking fun definitely clouded my previous incurable depression.

My legs really started to hurt.

Sasuke never would've guessed, I was sure, because right when I had decided to let myself be tagged for the sake of a long, sweet breath in my lungs, he crashed and tripped against me. The impact was pretty loud, knocking the both of us onto the cold, wet grass. I looked up, shocked by our extremely close proximity.

His breath was loud and harsh against mine, and we found ourselves just laying there, sharing the same cloud of air; our eyes slitted in fatigue.

The realization dawned slowly, but surely, and I felt my face become incredibly warm. His lips were full, similar to the shape of Itachi's, and his skin was a wave of glistening alabaster against my own darker one.

He wouldn't stop staring at me, and I couldn't stop staring at him.

We breathed harshly and loudly, frantic for each other's carbonated air.

I didn't know why, but I watched almost dazedly as his eyes began to lower towards the general direction of where my lips were. He began to inch closer for a reason that was still not completely apparent to me quite yet, and the need to push him off began to slowly itch at my quivering hands.

Before I could decide what it was he was really trying to do in our less-than-innocent position in the middle of the park, however, the loud blaring of his cellphone's ringtone began to pierce the thick fog surrounding us. His eyes widened at a considerable size as if on cue to the noise, and he very nearly leaped off of me as if I had suddenly morphed into some sort of gushing deformity. Which I probably had.. but, y'know.

I just lied there against the grass, still feeling his hot breath against my cheek even after he had scooted a few generous feet away from me. I caught up on air, my fingers digging into the dampened dirt beneath them.

Why had he inched so close to me..? Why had he looked at my lips?

"Hello..?"

I held my breath, realizing we had, indeed, ditched school that day.

The way we went about it hadn't been very graceful, either, so I already knew we had been caught. I bit my lip, knowing fully well that my counselor would show up at my apartment later that night to remind me what an irresponsible idiot I was.

There was some chatter coming from Sasuke's phone, but I couldn't make it out for the life of me.

"What?" I turned to see him, his face marked in all sorts of different ways. I couldn't quite make out the expression his face was struggling to make. "I was. No, I'm at a park. I just didn't feel like it. Fuck if I know, shit." I watched blankly, wondering who it was that had called him. The principal, maybe? "Whatever. I'll be right there."

I watched as he began to stand up from the grass, deeming it was time for me to finally get up myself.

"We've gotta get back," he said plainly, the previous bewilderment on his face now completely gone as if nothing at all had ever just happened. I, on the other hand, was still flustered. By everything. "Get your stuff."

I did just that, and without another word, we walked back to school.

He didn't say anything to me the whole way there, though he did offer me a stick of gum.

**oOo**

When we entered school grounds, I began to really feel anxious.

Especially when I noticed the way Sasuke was leading us towards the general direction of the sole art classroom in the building.

I tried once to turn back, to rush back home, but he stopped me the moment we stood before the partially opened door.

"Stay here, dobe. I want you to come over," he stared straight into my eyes, his face completely void of any emotion. "Let me just deal with this asshole."

I looked at him incredulously, my mouth parting at what he had just said. My body began to feel like a fluid, my head feeling lighter by the second.

He wanted.. _me_ to come over? As in, spend more time with _me_? And, 'the asshole'? Did he_ know_ Itachi?

I found myself nodding at his request, nonetheless, watching entirely flabbergasted at the way he began to disappear through the door. I thought many times of just running out of there, to get away from the room that I knew perfectly well Itachi currently inhabited.

The thought of him made me nervous. _Hot_.

I pressed my ear against the tiny crevice of the door, listening to what was beginning to be said.

"Where were you, Sasuke?"

The voice was chilling, most definitely coming from Itachi. My body shivered several times, having remembered the way it sounded when he had asked if he could kiss me just last night.

But, most importantly, why did Itachi _care_ where Sasuke was of all people?

"That's none of your business."

"...You are being foolish and irresponsible."

A silent scoff, "And _you're _not?"

"Who were you with?"

"Who were _**you **_with?"

"What are you talking about?" I could sense the rising anger in Itachi's voice. Something I never even knew _possible_.

My eyes widened with every word that was said, my heart beating like a malfunctioning machine from beneath my chest.

"Don't act stupid. You came home last night looking like you'd seen a dead cow outside the house, or some such fucking shit. I'm old enough to know a few things, you know."

I died, I swear I died.

I begged, _**plead**_, my feet to move, to get the living_ fuck_ out of there, but I couldn't. My muscles were frozen. Each tendon in my entire body completely and entirely useless. My blood threatened to spill from my eyes, my nose, my mouth, from everywhere.

I was going to faint. I could hardly breathe.

Before I knew it, there was a noise, and that noise lead to the sudden opening of the door. Having been practically glued to it, I flew down to the ground, my skull almost cracking itself onto the cold cement.

I looked up, through the hazy, unbelieving visage of my hysterical eyes, and caught sight of a tall figure. A figure I knew all too well.

"Naruto.."

The last thing I remember was summoning the miracle to gain control of my legs.

I practically almost killed myself several times as I sprinted the fuck out of there.

**oOo**

**Holy pile of worms! O: The tension! The angst! The emotions!**

**I have to admit, I enjoyed writing this a little _too_ much. Torturing y'alls and whatnot. ;D Would've been a little more than awkward if Naruto had told Sasuke who had given him that blowjob, don't you think? Heheh**

**Reviews, please? They make me write faster. xx**


	6. When I Thought He Was

**I cannot thank you all enough. :D You guys probably get annoyed with all the thanks, so on towards chapter 6! I hope you like ett. c:**

**I disclaim. Though, ItaNaru is totally canon. hehe**

**oOo**

My mother liked knitting.

I would watch her quietly as she did, next to her feet. She'd sit on the rocking chair my dad had gotten her for one of her birthdays, a soft, yellow blanket resting on her knees.

She'd hum songs and lullabies, ones that she said she'd thought of just for me. We were poor. She made my every outfit with orange yarn, because I would ask for no other color. Pretty strings mixed with green and white were used for the stitching. We could not afford shopping.

My father worked hard for my mother's yarn.

Her fingers went about the quills in intricate, untraceable patterns, and I would just sit there, watching her in sheer fascination. She had long, red hair. It was pretty. So pretty, in fact, that I'd often spend the time away brushing it as she made my dad new scarves for the winter.

I went about the action gingerly, careful beyond all precaution that I wouldn't hurt her. Sometimes, she would allow me to put her clips in for her. And sometimes, she would tell me how much she wanted to give me a sister.

A little girl, she'd say, to dress in pink, knitted dresses, white frills and doilies framing at the edges. Red bows in her hair, bright, blue eyes like my father's. She would also insist that she wanted her to have the same hair as me, that red would cause her too much tease.

I would beg her for that very sister every time she brought it up. I'd squirm and grovel at her feet, whining for the baby who would wear the pink dresses and have the same hair as me.

But she never came. I never met her, and now, I never will.

"Naruto?"

My father cooked all the time.

He wouldn't allow my mother to set foot in the kitchen under any circumstance. He hardly ever allowed her to do anything that didn't bring a permanent smile to her face, that didn't make her happy.

He liked her knitting, he'd tell her every evening, a kiss to her cheek as she blushed.

My dad would come home covered in dirt every night, smelling of gasoline. Sometimes he had a bag of groceries, sometimes he had a flower in his hand. He'd walk over and put it in my mother's hair if that were the case. I would watch this, giggling and writhing in her lap as she burned a bright red.

"I love you, Kushina," he'd say, ruffling my hair. "And this little man is gonna love you even more. So much, that you two won't even need me around anymore!"

My mother would laugh, playfully slapping him away.

After a while, when my father was done cooking dinner with whatever little food we had, he would come and pick me from my mother's lap.

"Moms need a break, too, little guy," I'd nod vigorously in agreement, watching as my mother attacked the food on her plate. "Can't wait 'till you become a lawyer, Naru! Spoil us and everything, buy us some nice clothes and one of those computer things," he'd chuckle, I could see tears rimming underneath his eyes, his large smile attempting to cover for what he didn't want me to unwittingly notice. "Or maybe a fireman, a police officer.. The next president!"

I would become so excited, I would wiggle in his arms, yelping in agreement. My mom would watch us silently from the kitchen, a sad smile on her face.

I never understood why she always looked so sad every time my father said those sort of things. I never understood why my father cried. I never understood why our apartment was so empty; cracked walls, chipped ceiling, a lone frame somewhere in the hallway.

Why did we all sleep in the same bed? Cramped, while my mother sobbed in the middle of the night? Why did my father have to work all day? From morning to the dead of night, yet we had virtually nothing?

Now I understood. Now I know why. Because we were alone. Because no one would help us.

Because we were nothing.

It's the same even now, except mom and dad are no longer here. The sister I yearned for, never to exist. My mother's yarn, never to be used again. My father's cooking, no longer steaming from the kitchen.

I couldn't help them. Not when the men barged into our house to hurt my mother. Made her cry, tore the flower from her hair. My father came rushing, kitchen knife in hand, his back facing my mother's fallen figure as I crawled over to her side.

She was bleeding, her cheek swelling. There were guns. I closed my eyes.

"I love you so much, Naruto. My sweet little boy.. Please, forgive us for having failed you."

I can't, I **don't**, ever want to remember the rest.

I look over to the side, towards my nightstand, the last flower my dad had given my mom lying shriveled inside the book I kept it in.

I miss them. I want to cry in my mother's hair, to rock with her in her chair. I want my father to carry me in his strong arms, to tell me that, one day, I would become the next president.

I remember his smile still, and I wish he and mother weren't dead.

I hate thinking. I hate remembering.

I truly wish at times to be with them, and I think of the knife beneath my bed.

"Naruto!"

My eyes shift slowly, towards my name.

There's a woman there. Black wavy hair, strange eyes, a large belly, and a clipboard in her lap. I think her name was Kurenai.

I wondered if that were how my mother was to look if she had conceived my sister. My eyes narrowed, forcing back the tears that burned to escape. That counselor wasn't there because she cared. Certainly not. Her next paycheck merely depended on it.

"You skipped school today," she began, the look on her face showing that she had repeated herself to me many times. "Why? Tell me what happened."

"I.. felt sick", I lied, my hands awkward somewhere on my lap.

She sighed, making sure that I would hear the stress behind it. "You can't go on doing that, Naruto. You know this."

I'm an idiot. A waste of space. I know no other way.

"I understand.. It won't happen anymore."

I didn't bother to look at her, already knowing that pity would be the only thing I would be faced with. If she truly cared, she'd take me in. Into her home. Perhaps allow me to brush her hair. My mom always said that I was good at it, that I knew how to make a girl happy.

"How have you been doing, Naruto?" she asks, her pen prepped against the clipboard.

"Fine.."

She writes it down.

"Any problems at school?"

"..No."

There is a pause. I could feel her looking at me, but I avoid her gaze at all costs.

"We will have a foster home set up for you soon, Naruto."

She says the same lie every time.

"Okay.."

"Are you sure you're fine?" she presses, putting her clipboard down. "You can tell me anything, Naruto. You know this."

I close my eyes, the thought of earlier tempting me to speak up. But I say nothing. She wouldn't care to understand. No one would.

"Yes. I'm fine."

The room is quiet for a long moment, and before I can change my mind, her perfume is already gone.

I could hear the front door shutting with the twist of the lock.

**oOo**

At school, I took contrary routes.

I did everything differently, hoping beyond anything that I wouldn't run into Sasuke.

The day before was still fresh on my mind, the brief conversation between him and Itachi making my heart hurt from even having it. Kiba said something about me being a cockless twit during one of my classes, the teacher having assigned him as my computer lab partner for the rest of the month.

I didn't argue. I hadn't the strength.

I nodded absently at his insult, and that seemed to have shut him up for a while. We completed the worksheet in silence. I think my crying had turned him off. He asked me if I wanted to be taken to the nurse, and I kindly turned him down.

He didn't throw paper balls at my head like he usually did when I made my way down the crowded hall.

Instead, he simply looked the other way.

**oOo**

During lunch, I contemplated deeply whether or not I should've taken my usual seat at the empty table.

After a few minutes of awkwardly standing in the middle of the quad area, I decided against it. Sasuke would probably stop by, allowing him the opportunity to poke fun at me. To rub in my face that he had what I didn't. Had what I _couldn't_. What I could never attain or touch ever again.

Itachi.

My legs led themselves blindly towards the general direction of the field, my feet barely lifting from the ground as I walked. Several girls stopped and stared, whispering to each other in their ears. I looked down, towards the cement, not daring to listen in on what they had to say.

I was destroyed just enough. The job had been done. I wanted to officially die.

When I stepped onto the muddied grass, I pondered within myself whether the knife that I kept beneath my bed would be sharp enough. A single tear fell from one of my eyes, the flare of my mother's long, red hair having caused me to further desire the liberation that came from the promise of death.

I sat somewhere against a tree, one that was far back into the school's field. It lied weathered, its blossoms withered and dried from the cold. I hugged my sweater against myself a little tighter, pressing my back against the bark of the tree for some kind of warmth. I shivered. There was fog all around. My gaze met with the chain linked fence not far from where I sat, wondering if I would be agile enough to hop it and run.

My body began to move on its own accord, deeming it'd be an easy enough thing to accomplish without being seen. Before I could bend my knees to stand up, however, a voice from somewhere near pierced me away from my initiative.

I faltered, my head turning towards the voice as I sunk back against the earth.

"I've been looking all over for you, moron, where have you been?"

I met eyes with none other than Sasuke. I hardly moved, hardly fazed. He was the last thing I wanted to face. I turned away without saying anything, digging my spine against the trunk of the tree so it would hurt. My hands fisted themselves at my sides, eyes narrowed somewhere straight ahead.

I was resentful. Angry. Afraid.

I heard him approach, the noise from the chains he wore impossible to ignore from within the thick afternoon's fog. The field was like a cemetery, quiet in all directions, exempt of all people.

How did he even find me? Surely he must've followed me.

"Kiba said he saw you moping your way over here, lookin' like you were marching to your death, or some shit," he went on, ignoring the fact that I was being blatantly unresponsive to his presence.

He took a seat somewhere next to me. This time, he wore a hoody; an imprint of some screamo band he listened to marking its exterior. His warmth relieved me of some of the shivers, but I still didn't want him there with me. I shrank into myself, holding myself as far away from him as possible.

He must have noticed.

"What the hell's your problem?" he snapped, shifting in his position to face me directly. I looked away even more, nearly breaking my neck in the process.

I scooted a little from him, hiding my face from behind my knees. He looked really pale, and his lips looked really pink. I seethed, my brows clasping against each other in growing irritation.

"Nothing. Leave me alone. I'm not in the mood."

He sat quiet for a while, likely registering the fact that I had just spoken to him the way that I had. My anger had seeped through my voice, my choler, my rancor, and the new-found hostility that I now had towards him, and_ only_ him. I didn't want him anywhere near me, he was like an insufferable, perpetual reminder of what I knew I couldn't ever attain. He reeked of Itachi even then.

Maybe they'd kissed earlier. Maybe Sasuke had been in Itachi's arms. Maybe they slept in the same bed..

My jaw clenched, my teeth grinding against each other in a nearly painful way.

"What the fuck? What the hell's with you, you moron?" he finally said, his voice rising a few amps in volume.

I turned towards him, just once, and was met once again with a face that was a thousand times better than my own. His black hair was ironed neatly from the front, the back of it carefully spiked. His dark brows were furrowed, his sable eyes narrowed in incredulity. He glared heavily at me. I honestly thought he was going to beat my face in.

I wasn't scared, however. I could take him.

"Nothing. Just.. leave me alone," I hissed, looking away so that my voice was a pathetic whisper. Who was I kidding? I was no match for someone like him. The only thing I could truly do was writhe, wallowing in my endless despair.

His face softened, I didn't even have to look. He scooted towards me, closing the gap that I had created between us. I felt like throwing myself at him, to wail my heart out on his shoulder. _Anyone's _shoulder.

Tears brimmed again. I hoped dearly that he would not notice.

"Why'd you run off like that yesterday?" he said, looking somewhere straight ahead. His voice was much quieter now, almost.. hurt. "Why are you avoiding me?"

I said nothing, a sniffle escaping me before I could hold it back. I hugged myself against my knees in a sort of fetal position, hiding my face from within the crevice of my knees and chest. I prayed that he would leave. I prayed he would just disappear, to leave me to my withering.

"Naruto? Answer me," he pressed, his eyes boring holes at the side of my head. "What did I-"

"I DON'T KNOW, ALRIGHT?! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! GO AWAY!"

I couldn't control myself, I had turned towards him, shouted in his face like a mother suffering from the loss of her child, tears marring and painting at my face.

He stared at me, wide-eyed. Possibly in shock.

We froze that way for a long moment, tears spilling from every corner of my eyes as I struggled to keep them open. His look of shock slowly turned into a look of sheer bitterness, his brows creasing tightly from the middle.

"Fine. I will. Fuck you."

He shifted in order to stand up, the look on his face having been something I would never forget. He had looked so hurt. As if he cared deeply of what I had said to him; as if I'd actually caused him _pain_.

I sat completely still, watching blankly as he stood. Before he could leave, however, I reached for his sleeve, causing him to look down towards me.

"What," he bit flatly.

"Itachi.." I began, swallowing away my every nerve. I shook a little, daring myself to ask the question that I had discarded from asking much earlier before. "Is he your.. Lover?"

A single brow rose high on his face, a look of sheer disgust and disbelief taking over his entire expression. I had never seen him show so much emotion in one go. I felt incredibly intimidated. I could feel my body prepping itself to take a blow to the face right then. I cringed, yet I did not look away from him.

"Dude, what the fuck? Are you sick in the head, or something? That's fucking gross."

Stunned, I let go of his sleeve. My mouth parted, completely forgetting about how cold I'd been the entire time.

"Then why did you say that he-"

Before I could finish, he immediately lifted me up by the collar, his hold harsh and solid. I winced, knowing what was to come. He slammed me against the tree, the impact of it having made my brain jolt from within my skull. His knuckles dug into my neck as his fierce, ebony eyes pierced blades into my own cowering ones. He leaned closer towards me, a hellish glare on his face.

"What are you playing at, dobe?" he hissed, almost as if he didn't want anyone else to hear. "First you act like a self-righteous piece of shit, and then you ask me if I dangle my ass in the air for my own fucking brother?"

My eyes widened the more he went on, squirming from underneath his metal grasp. He completely overpowered me, his figure crushing my own as he squeezed the breath from my lungs.

"If you didn't like me hanging around you, you could've just made it clear. I don't need you anyway, I can have whatever the fuck I want."

Gasping for air, I tried to push him away, for the sake of a breath, but he wouldn't budge the least bit. I wanted to say that I was sorry, that I didn't mean to accuse him of such things.. That I.. That I truly believed that he and Itachi had been.. in some sort of relationship. He mentioned living in the same house as him, I could think of no other reason besides it.

I felt like a complete idiot. Yet, instead of relief, I felt like hanging myself even more. I had just lost my first and only friend thanks to my incredible amount of stupidity, and it was all my fault. And now said person was going to beat my ass straight into the hell I deserved in. I cringed, awaiting the bone of his fist against my face at any second.

But instead..

"Fuck you, Naruto. Look at me," he growled, sounding infernally angry. I looked towards him, catching a breath in my lungs at long last. His sharp gaze grew further in scrutiny as he pressed me harder against the tree.

And then.. He kissed me.

The moment was a quick flash, I can hardly remember the entirety of it. His weight was a rock crushing the air out of me, his lips having been almost no different. He pressed against my mouth in unpremeditated severity, the intensity of it having erased all else from my mind.

I think I forgot to breathe, and couldn't even after he had let go of me. It was nothing like what Itachi had done two days ago, but it was still soft, regardless of how brusquely Sasuke had gone about it.

A sheen of mint covered my lips after he pulled away, and I knew he had gum in his mouth even then. He looked straight at me, his eyes hazy, his breath marking my cheeks. I finally remembered how to breathe, having taken large gulps of air as I stared right back at him.

He was warm. He began to press himself against me again. This time, however, without the use of violence.

I stood completely frozen, shocked, not knowing what to make of the situation. He leaned towards me, waiting for me to do the same.

But I didn't.

A moment later, the bell gave a loud, blaring ring. He gave me a slight look of confusion, but to my complete and utter ease, he pulled away rather casually, looking somewhere to the side.

There was a blatant veil of red encasing the entirety of his face, something I thought I would never see.

"If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Meet me here after school."

And with that, he disappeared into the fog, not bothering to notice the way I had stupidly nodded at him as if I were some sort of brainless zombie.

The very tips of my fingers traced gingerly against my mouth at first, a rush of blood surging towards my cheeks. But when I thought back to Itachi, and the way his had felt against me, I immediately wiped the kiss away with my sleeve.

Without another thought or word, I left the field, the taste of mint lingering somewhere on my lips still.

**oOo**

**God, I love this so much.. x'D**

**This is the only story that I feel I can truly let myself cry to. I know the love Naru feels for his sexy teacher.. My love for my own reeks of the same devotion. le sigh~**

**Anyway, thank you so much for reading guys. c: This was so much fun to write. A comment, pweez? Ideas? xx**


	7. When I Knew

**Woo! Update! ;D hehe**

**This is, by far, the longest one yet. Ready? Haha. I hope you guys are!**

**Warnings: Graphic shit and lots of angsty emotions.**

**&Forwards we go! :D**

**oOo**

Time flew.

I spent the first five minutes of class rubbing the sleeve of my sweater against my lips. The next five were spent trying to figure out why I even did.

Itachi was late. He was never late. I shifted awkwardly in my seat, trying to get a better look out the window across from me. Sakura happened to be sitting right next to it. She gave me a look. I took the hint and turned away.

Great.

Now I was a loser _and _a stalker.

She whispered sharply to the girl sitting next to her. I could feel her eyes on me, the trace of a scowl marking against her face. Two pairs of accusing looks directed themselves towards me seconds later. Caving me in, _hating_ me. I sank into my seat, burning quietly in the fire of embarrassment as I hid my face into the cradle of my arms.

One of them laughed. Not sure which one.

I hope it wasn't Sakura..

"My apologies, class. Good afternoon."

My head lifted itself, carefully, towards the familiar voice coming from the front of the room. It was him.

Itachi.

I felt my eyes watering, the hair on the back of my neck standing. My skin tightened. My heart must have done a flip or two. Lips pulled to the side, breath hitching. I retreated into myself as quickly as possible, a cowering bug looking for refuge inside of its withering shell.

I watched in hopeless fascination as he pocketed away his cellphone, quick to end a call before he did so. He looked like he always did, if it wasn't for a very, _very_ faint smile that was brief enough to have passed for a fickle trick of the room's peculiar lighting. My eyes narrowed, and I wondered who it was that had been on the other end of the line.

He wore dark jeans, worn down at the knees, stained strategically at the thighs. A black scarf decorated his neck, along with a white sweater that pressed firmly against his figure. Its wooly exterior reminded me of the snow that fell warily during the late winter, and for a quick moment I wondered how it would have felt like at the end of my fingers..

He pulled a stack of papers from the bag he'd been carrying and proceeded to pass them across the room. He moved faster than usual. His hair was hardly tied. Loose strands framed his face, a face so consuming. I looked away when he walked by my desk, though I doubt he took notice.

I was so bitter. I was so nervous and eager. I was so hellishly in lo-

"Naruto, your hood, please."

There was a long silence. A thousand eyes turned towards me. I heard the loud creaking of necks turning like the reels on a dying train. My throat swallowed a wad of something thick and dry. Something painful. Bit my lip, stared down at the desk for the life of me, and slowly lowered the hood I didn't know existed from off my head.

As soon as Itachi said his next word, I flew out the classroom in a stormy blur. Unexcused. Ashamed.

I couldn't see the hallways as I ran. I tripped once. Maybe twice. It was so cold outside. When my back hit the brick of the restroom's hall, I blamed the water that fell from my eyes.

I slumped down until I couldn't slump any more. My shoulders shook in sporadic waves. The sound of someone sobbing flooded the hallway. But when I looked through the drenched visage of my itchy eyes to see who it was that was crying so loudly, I could see no one but myself there.

I've yet to know how much time passed until the tears just wouldn't fall anymore.

**oOo**

Kiba asked me why my eyes were so red, but I said nothing.

I stared blankly at the white paper that rested against my desk. I hadn't touched it since I came back in. Itachi hadn't said anything when I did. I didn't dare look, but I knew that he was at his desk.

"You look like shit man," Kiba whispered again, "You okay? You look like your mom just died, or something."

"She did."

I could hear the shock stuck in his throat. I felt another sob coming, but I held it down. I wanted to leave. To run home, to hang myself.

"Sorry, man," he continued. I heard him put his pencil down. "Why'd you run out like that? Thought the teach' was gonna drag you back in by the balls from the way he looked at the door when you let it slam. You know that thing's hella loud, man."

"Dunno." It hurt to talk. Felt like a bug was scratching at my throat. I tried swallowing it down. "I got sick."

Kiba seemed to have believed what I said because he didn't say another word. I continued to stare at the paper as if it were to whisper the cure to misery right into my ear at any second. The scratching of pencils flooded the room. I could feel my jaw tightening for a reason that was still yet vague.

All I knew was that I would never pick up a pencil ever again.

"Naruto?"

The voice was soft. Deep, gentle, and dreadfully familiar. The ball of shit in my chest fluttered to life at the very sound of it. But I didn't dare look up. No reason to. I was dead.

"Naruto," it repeated.

I hate my name.

"What."

There was a pause. A hesitant one.

"Your paper. It's blank."

"Yeah."

Whoever it was, I could feel the frustration forming on their face.

"I'll have to fail you for the day if you don't begin now."

"Fail me, then. I don't care."

The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Did it even matter, though? Would it had changed anything at all if I had held them back..? Why was I alive?

"You'll be excused if you don't-"

"Fine! I'll do it, _shit_!"

My hand snatched the pencil from somewhere on my desk, knuckles growing white as I gripped violently onto it. Lead finally met paper, and a hard line began to appear on its surface. Graphite dust followed the dark mark from the exerted friction. My eyes were intent on nothing, hand swaying harshly in random directions as I drew formless markings. Itachi said nothing, though I could feel his incisive gaze resting upon me.

I didn't stop until my pencil broke, and still, he said nothing.

The last thing I remember was watching him walk back to his desk, complimenting Sakura on the work she had done so far before he disappeared from my line of vision.

This time, I wiped the tears away before they had the opportunity to fall.

The bell rang moments later and I immediately stood up. I tossed my backpack on in a messy blur, looking only at the door that everyone was already flooding to escape from. I would have given virtually anything to fly out of there, to crash through the roof and plummet into some river cold enough for hypothermia to settle in.

I was a few feet away when Itachi stopped me with that voice of his. So calm. Serene. _Soft_.

I froze, watching as the last person dashed out the door. I took another step, hoping he hadn't called my name, that it had all been inside my head. But this time, his voice grew greater in volume.

A demanding utterance. Almost cold. Almost angry, I couldn't really tell.

I turned, slowly, staring down at my feet.

"Come here."

I didn't take my eyes off the floor when I obeyed. My entire body began to shake. A mixture of fear and hopelessness overcame me, ate me, I could feel the blood in my face freezing.

The warmth of a tear, however, warmed me when it streamed down towards my chin.

"I'd like to.. have a talk with you, Naruto," he said.

I felt myself standing directly in front of his desk by then. I hadn't the strength to wipe my eyes anymore, so I watched the tears just fall to the ground instead.

"Look." I did. It was the drawing from earlier. "This. What is this?" I looked towards the ground again, burying my eyes deep down into the floor. I held a hiccup hostage inside my throat. "I see no attempt. No care at all given."

I would have cared before. But I didn't care anymore. I say nothing, only biting the inside of my cheek as hard as I could without drawing too much blood into my mouth.

"Naruto, look at me-"

And by god, I do.

I look at him, into his beautiful, cherry eyes with my own bloodshot ones; those of which are smeared blue with pain. He stares at me, his mouth parting. I felt like keeling over dead then because he now knows that I am crying.

He says absolutely nothing, his Adam's apple bobbing discretely within his throat in visible hesitation. I know I'll die wondering how it would have felt like to kiss it..

"I'm sorry," I croak, wiping at the left side of my face. "You can fail me. I don't mind."

Silence.

"I.. I'm sorry for cursing at you," my voice is breaking, sorrow laced at the end of each word, "I didn't m-mean it."

A sob comes, it escapes me, and he hears it. I catch my breath, desperate to gain control of my body. But I just can't. The tears keep coming. Can't wipe them fast enough.

"Naruto..-"

"Why..? Why did you leave that night? Why..?" I'm pleading, I'm begging, but I can't look at him. Can't look at him because I love him. "Why.."

Because I love him so much.

My hands shake. My knees lust for the ground, ready to wash his feet with my hair if he needs. And somewhere within the muffled sorrow in my ears, he finally speaks. To me.

"Naruto, I care for you.. deeply."

"Then w-why don't you just-"

Love me. Kiss me. Hold me.

Run away with me.

"I'd like you to redo this, Naruto." I hear him carefully stand, sliding the paper on his desk towards my direction. "You're worth more than this."

And I die. Again.

"I'm worth **NOTHING**!" All I hear is myself screaming, breathing loudly. Snarling like a dog as I tear the paper in his face. "JUST AN UGLY PIECE OF SHIT!"

As I spear out of the room I hear him slamming something heavy against his desk, a long curse hissed beneath his breath in a silent rage I would never come to hear him use again.

I didn't look back even as the flock of people standing outside stared at me incredulously through the hammering rain. Only the large tree in the faraway field lied clear in my vision.

The one Sasuke said he'd be waiting in.

**oOo**

Mom said I was born during a rainy day. One in which the sun shone bright in the horizon.

She said I wasn't painful at all because she was too busy looking at the sun from outside the hospital's window. That the color she'd seen through her eyes must have traveled straight down to me and caused the color of my hair right when I had 'popped out'.

She also told me that she had drank a lot of water all throughout her pregnancy in order to get my eyes to be as blue as my father's. That it worked. That I had the prettiest eyes. That I would grow up to be more handsome than my dad ever was.

I believed her for the longest time.

That is, until I stopped being a complete and utter idiot.

My clothes were drenched by then. I must have weighed an extra twenty pounds. I could feel my shoes soaking out water every time I stepped down. Couldn't even catch a breath because of all the water, but somehow, I made it to the field.

I saw Sasuke standing by the tree, his back resting against it as he puffed casually on a cigarette. When he finally saw me set foot in the muddy, worm-covered grass, he mashed it against the tree and came jogging towards me.

I tucked away the hurt as much as I possibly could and gave him a weak smile. His lip tugged sharply to the side, crisp teeth glowing. He looked a little evil, like he was ready to kick my ass and dump my dismembered body in a bin. He didn't, though, so I deemed that was as close as he got to an actual smile.

He was wearing a black hoodie with Marilyn Manson's logo on it, tight jeans, and a silver cross around his neck. He never once did fail at making me look like a sad joke.

He walked with me without a word until we both reached the dry haven underneath the huge oak tree. That's when he popped out another cigarette, lit it, puffed it four times, eyed me up and down, chuckled (for a reason I still can't figure out), until, finally, he spoke.

"You look like a corpse."

I said nothing, my eyes falling slowly towards the dirty grass.

"I like corpses."

I looked up, watching him as he took a long drawl of his cigarette. I was entirely speechless at his comment.

"So, you wanna go to the movies? I have forty on me."

He stared right at me, his eyes like flesh-cutting scissors. I don't think he blinked the entire time. I marveled at his hair, how it lied completely unhindered by the rain that had caught solid ground on it.

"I don't-"

"Well, what about the mall?"

"I just-"

"The skating rink? They just opened it up."

"Sasuke, I-"

"Or we can just walk around. I don't mind." He took another long drawl of smoke, his shoulder balancing him rather casually against the thick trunk of the tree.

"I just.. I want to go home. I came here to tell you that."

He stared at me for the longest moment, forcing me to fidget underneath his gaze. I actually feared for my life for the flash of a second and thought about running. But to my surprise, a moment later, he smirked, taking a last puff of his cigarette before crushing it underneath his heel.

"My place? My room's big."

I looked at him almost curiously, wondering if he had even heard me.

"I.."

"My brother won't be there. The house is ours."

I turned towards the rain and looked back towards him again, opening my mouth to state the obvious, though I didn't get the chance to as he had somehow managed to read my mind.

"We're not walking, moron. I called a taxi. It's here."

I couldn't say anything. Don't know if it was the fact that my word seemed to be entirely weightless against his, or if I was just too broken and alone to argue about it any further.

"Okay," I nodded.

He grinned, leading me towards the cab right outside the school's gates.

**oOo**

Sasuke's house was a mansion.

He said it wasn't (and also that I was stupid or thinking that it was), but in my eyes, his place could have passed for a castle.

A two-story leviathan with marbled floor and fine carpeting.

When we first arrived outside his house I sincerely thought we were going to a surprise visit to a fancy museum of some kind. A whole neighborhood of them, at that.

I stood dumbly in the middle of what seemed to be the guest room, admiring all of the artwork hung all around the walls.

I immediately recognized the majority of them as Itachi's own personal work.

Some, however, differed in style, though clearly revolved around the same technique. I hardly remembered Sasuke was still there until he nudged me hard on the shoulder, an annoyed tinge in his voice.

"Let's get something to drink, come on."

We stopped at a glass cupboard somewhere in the corner of the livingroom which contained several which fancy bottles locked up inside of it. A huge grin marked Sasuke's face the moment he reached down inside a flower vase to get a hold of a tiny key. I watched quietly as he pried open the lock, successfully opening the glass doors.

"You like whiskey? Wine? Or some other shit?" he asked, reaching to bring down two shots from somewhere in the cupboard.

I instinctively backed up, recognizing now that he was talking about hard alcohol. The stuff my parents had always warned me about since the age of one.

"I.. don't drink," I managed, looking away bravely as he handed me a glass.

I only peeked towards him once to catch sight of the frown against his face. A frown that immediately caused me to accept the gesture without further hesitation.

I wasn't ready to lose my only ever friend, and I knew it.

He brought three different bottles with him One that was half empty and the two others that were completely unopened. I shivered at the thought of whose alcohol that actually belonged to and nearly started crying right on the spot.

I hadn't the strength to think of him. Of Itachi..

"Ever been wasted?" Sasuke said out of nowhere, throwing himself on the livingroom couch.

I shook my head to the side once as I carefully took a seat on the opposite sofa, fearful that I might taint its perfect exterior with the grime and dirt stuck to my clothes. Sasuke chuckled darkly to himself, pouring himself a clear liquid that smelled strongly of alcohol and a lot of money.

"Did you know? That my brother's a fucking drunk?" he laughed, swallowing the entire thing in one go. "Can't go a single night without wasting his ass." I watched as he whipped out a cigarette from his back-pocket, lighting it as if smoking and drinking at the same time were an every day thing to him.

I looked away rather shyly, awkwardly rubbing the side of my arm. I didn't believe him. About Itachi.

"Get some," he muttered. His eyes narrowed as he took another drawl, his lips forming into a perfect shape as he exhaled some of the smoke from his lungs. He looked like the poster-boy of what every girl wanted. Of what every girl would _kill _for. "Don't worry, I won't tell him. He won't even notice. Too fucking stupid, more than you, even."

I pressed my lips at the insults, finding myself to be hurt more at the fact that he insulted Itachi rather than me. I tried to forget, however, for just a moment, and before I knew it, my hand was already holding on to the half-empty bottle.

Sasuke's brow rose, a grin on his face as he puffed out more smoke.

"Bet you can't chug for five seconds," he said, opening a bottle of his own as he took a long, noisy gulp of it without repercussion. "Dare you."

The throat-cutting liquid was already sliding down my stomach by the time he had said those last two words.

**oOo**

There was a movie playing in the background, I could hear it even behind the loud pounding going on in my brain.

I don't remember how much alcohol I had downed, but it was definitely enough to have me hysterically laughing at any dumb thing Sasuke pulled from out of his ass.

There was rapid gunfire blaring from the gigantic-sized plasma screen as he went on and on about stories that I can hardly recall him talking about, let alone, _understand_. It took me a long while to even notice that he no longer had his hoodie on, or even a shirt of any kind.

I was beginning to feel hot. A string of sweat slipped from the side of my temple, and the need to tear off my sweater grew tenfold when I finally set down the nearly-empty bottle of alcohol somewhere on the ground. I think it spilled over because Sasuke gave out a wailing fit of laughter almost immediately.

"Dude, dude.." he chuckled, pointing at the liquid pouring onto the clean carpet, "_Dude_."

I absently looked down towards where he was pointing, a strange noise that resembled a type of disoriented laugh escaping my throat at the sight of the emptying bottle.

Eventually, I could no longer bear the heat of my sweater and managed to somehow find my way out of it. I didn't miss the way Sasuke had been staring at my struggle, a cigarette balanced between his long fingers as he silently studied my every move.

His sudden change of mood was a bit daunting, to say the least. He had gone from a laughing jest to a quiet observer. I looked away, begging my body to cool itself down at least by a little bit. The sweat just kept falling. I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, eyes intent on the hazing screen of the television. I thought about mentioning my urgent need to go home, but before I could..

"Your dad ever try to fuck you?" he asked nonchalantly, his eyes dark and unblinking as he puffed another cloud of smoke.

I, on the other hand, nearly choked on my own spit.

"W-What..?"

He said nothing, his left brow risen above his narrowed eyes, waiting for an answer.

"My dad's dead."

"Your mom?"

My hand trembled at the mention of my mother. That must have been what fury felt like. "She's dead.."

There was a silence. Sasuke turned off the tv. I felt myself scooting away from the couch, clenching my eyes shut to stabilize my vision. I began to feel weird just being around him. Like I needed to run out of there. The mood had changed dramatically in a matter of seconds.

I looked towards the small table in the middle of the room. I was pretty sure there had been only one earlier before.. but now there were two.

"Cancer took my mom. Dad hung himself the next day" he grinned. I swear I heard him laugh right after. I still hope to this day that it was just me and my drunken haze on reality.

"But Itachi said that-"

"Itachi's a fucking idiot. He lives in the clouds, drawing little pictures that no one could give their last shit about."

I bit my tongue, but I could feel myself glaring at him.

"Can't wait to get out of this dump. I'm gonna be famous," he smirked, sitting up on the couch. I tried hard not to stare, inevitably noticing that he had a body that I could only but miserably hope of one day attaining. "Sing a couple of shitty songs and make millions."

I looked towards the ground, fiddling awkwardly with my fingers. I began to feel dizzy, and the mere thought of standing up made my head sting as if someone had stuck a nail right through it. My body heightened further in temperature seconds later, and that's when I noticed that Sasuke had taken a seat right next to me.

I froze. Sweat streamed down my neck. I was dying to take my shirt off, dying for cold water. That's when I felt Sasuke's breath tickling right against my ear, breath laced in the bitter reek of the alcohol we'd been drinking.

His hand reached for my chin, forcing me to face him. The whole room was quiet as he stared right at me with those black, bottomless eyes that only he had. Air became stagnant, forcing me to breathe heavily against him. I could only but helplessly watch as he inched closer and closer towards me, lips like red wine. Skin like diamond dust. Hair like black chalk.

I couldn't think clearly, only sheer pain stemmed from the strain of thought, so I kissed him.

He latched on to my lips in a wet tangled mess, saliva dripping from both our mouths in a hungry search for something that I don't think was ever there. His hands reached for my waist, pulling me against him, leaving a trail of his hot skin against my back and on to the back of my neck.

He was pressing so hard against me that I could hardly breathe at that point. His mouth nuzzled me as his perfect nose stole the air from my own, forcing me to gasp and to plead for the carbonated air coming from his mouth. His tongue dug itself into my throat, nearly choking me as he licked at the inner walls of my cheeks. Grazed against my teeth, sucked on my tongue hard enough for it to sting.

A noise vibrated in my throat and that seemed to have encouraged him further. He returned the gesture; a long, groaning howl escaping him as he pushed me off of the couch and onto the carpeted floor. He immediately broke the kiss to peel my shirt off in a wild frenzy, pinning me down to the ground with his weight straddled on top of me.

I gasped for air, watching him watching me. His eyes lied narrowed in lust, skin damp with sweat.

My mind spun. I couldn't feel a brain in my skull, just an agonizing mass of heavy rock weighing my head down into a dull, painful vertigo. I could feel palms rubbing against my stomach and chest in a frenetic, violent craze. I tried to say his name, to tell him to slow down, but only a gasp of dry air managed to wheeze out of my throat.

He leaned down several times to kiss me, each time hoping somewhere inside that he wouldn't do it again. But he did. Time and time again.

His hands rushed to the button of my pants as I stared dizzily at the ceiling, mouth open wide for any drop of precious air that I could catch in my lungs.

I felt his fingers dig into the waist of my jeans, pushing down, pulling and pulling, until they finally slipped right off. I squirmed from beneath him, but he wouldn't budge. His weight must have been twice that of my own.

A panic began to settle in.

"Sa-Sas.." he looked towards me, leaning in, breathing the air I worked so hard to attain. "Plea-please.."

"Hold on," he whispered, balancing back up on his knees. "These things are a bitch to take off."

I watched in a haze of different colors as he began to unbutton his skinnies, white hands fumbling with the zipper. I clenched my eyes closed, trying to stop my head from spinning.

With a string of curses I felt his bare legs against my own seconds later. The panic increased when he splayed his weight on top of me, his knee kicking my thighs far apart from each other. I watched him in utter terror as he reached down from between him, a hard pole of what was more than likely his dick pressing along my pelvis, searching and prodding for something I didn't even want to think about.

I squirmed, reacting violently to the action. He paused for just a moment, a confused look on his face.

"What..?" he whispered.

"What.. What are you doing..?" I managed, my throat so dreadfully dry.

"What do you think, moron?"

That's when his cock pressed against the crack of my ass, pushing against a place that I knew I didn't want him in. I reached to push his chest away, squirming to get him off.

"S-stop.. please.."

Sasuke froze completely.

He looked at me, a coldness in his eyes as his hand reached to choke against my neck.

"You like fucking with me, don't you?" he hissed, his face less than an inch away from my own. "Fucking think I'm some kind of joke, huh?"

I shook my head, a whimper escaping me as he slowly began to let go. His brows furrowed in a tight fury.

And just as quickly as it happened, he got off of me, reaching for his shirt from somewhere on the ground. I immediately sat up, breathless.

"Sasuke-"

"Fuck you. Get out of my house."

"B-but, Sasu-"

"I said, GET OUT!"

I begged my eyes to focus, and when they did, I saw his face. His eyes. Tears falling from them.

He was crying.

Sasuke was.. _crying_.

I stumbled to my feet to reach for him, to spill a million apologies into his ears, to beg for him not to hate me. That I was sorry, that it was all my fault, that I was an idiot-

"Don't _fucking _touch me," he snarled, pushing me roughly away from him. "Get. Out. **Now**."

I felt like I would die. Die right then, from both heartache and something else entirely. I would do anything. Anything at all. I could already feel the tears that I thought I'd run out of frantically spilling from my face.

Loneliness. Losing him. My friend. Sasuke.. Our promise.

"Sasuke," I pleaded, falling to my knees, "Please.. I'm sorry.."

I literally clung to his legs, pride and dignity destroyed and offered at his feet. He stared incredulously at me from above, unsure of what to do as my hands snaked to his boxers, desperately pulling them down until they hit his ankles.

I remember it being thick, leaking with clear fluids. I remember looking up at him, _pleading_, as I started sucking. Loudly, quickly. Tears falling at his feet.

Sasuke's back hit the wall, an exasperated noise escaping him as I sucked desperately at the head, dipping my tongue in the slit just enough to feel him tremble against me. I mocked what Itachi once did, what I remembered in my intoxicated state, looking into Sasuke's eyes as I took him as far as I could without puking on him.

His mouth snapped open, a string of shameless moans falling into the silence of the room as my lips wrapped tightly against him. Milking him slowly, tasting him, wanting him to forgive me.

His hands tangled themselves in my hair, pushing me in until my chin pressed firmly against his balls. My eyes clenched shut, my throat clutching on to his cock like a lifeline as I struggled for air.

"F-fuck.. Naruto.."

He rolled his hips, and with a long howl of raw need, a hot, creamy liquid shot right down my aching esophagus. I gagged desperately against him, but he kept me in place.

And right when I finally felt the thick knot of Sasuke's seed disappear somewhere from within me, the gasp of a woman froze my heart into a cold, dreary death that I truly wish would've ended me.

Sasuke immediately let go of me. Time froze, and I dared myself to turn.

A woman with royal-blue hair stood in the hallway that led to the livingroom, her fingers pressed softly against her pierced lip as she quickly turned away in sheer shock.

Itachi stood next to her...

Holding her hand.

**oOo**

**Yeah, um.. o-o **

**I think I'm dead right now. Though, if you leave a comment, I might just revive.. About 8 chapters more to go, give or take. xx**


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